tibvavy  of  Che  trheoiocjiccd  ^eminarp 

PRINCETON  ■  NEW  JERSEY 


PRESENTED  BY 

John  Stuart  Conning,  D.D 

BM  536  .A8  J3  1914  C.2 
Jastrow,  Morris,  1861-1921. 
Hebrew  and  Babylonian 
traditions 


>> 


HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 


HEBREW  AND  ^ 
BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

THE   HASKELL   LECTURES 

DELIVERED    AT    OBERLIN    COLLEGE    IN    I913,    AND 
SINCE    REVISED    AND    ENLARGED 


BY 

MORRIS  JASTROW,  Jr.,  Ph.D. 

PROFESSOR  OF  SEMITIC  LANGUAGES  IN  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  PENNSYLVANIA 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 

1914 


Copyright,  1914,  by 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


Published  February,  1914 


So 
WILLIAM    WEST    FRAZIER 

A  TRIBUTE 
OF  ESTEEM  AND  AFFECTION 


PREFACE 

When  the  kind  invitation  was  extended  to  me 
by  the  authorities  of  Oberlin  College  to  become  the 
Haskell  Lecturer  for  191 3,  I  welcomed  the  oppor- 
tunity to  bring  to  a  temporary  close  studies  on  the 
relationship  between  Hebrews  and  Babylonians  that 
had  occupied  me,  though  with  prolonged  interrup- 
tions, for  a  long  term  of  years.  Impressed  by  the 
fact  that  the  civilisation  of  the  Hebrews  and  Baby- 
lonians moved  along  such  different  lines,  despite  the 
many  features  they  had  in  common,  I  felt  that  the 
real  problem  involved  in  a  comparative  study  of 
Hebrew  and  Babylonian  folk-tales,  beliefs,  religious 
practices,  and  modes  of  thought  was  to  determine 
the  factor  or  factors  that  led  to  such  entirely  dif- 
ferent issues  in  the  case  of  the  two  peoples.  Ar- 
chaeological research,  in  combination  with  the  ascer- 
tained and  generally  accepted  results  of  biblical 
studies,  had  demonstrated  the  close  bond  existing 
between  Hebrew  and  Babylonian  traditions — to  use 
a  conveniently  comprehensive  term — beyond  ques- 
tion. It  is  idle  at  this  stage  to  deny  either  the 
composite  character  of  the  stories  in  the  early  chap- 
ters of  Genesis,  or  the  late  date  at  which  they  must 
have  received  their  present  form;  it  is  equally  fu- 
tile to  deny  the  factor  of  evolution  in  the  develop- 


viii  PREFACE 

ment  of  religious  ideas  among  the  Hebrews.  The 
evidence  is  overwhelming;  and  whether  we  turn  to 
the  legal  sections  of  the  Pentateuch,  or  to  the  his- 
torical records,  or  to  the  Prophets  and  Psalms,  we 
see  everywhere  the  traces  of  a  long-continued  proc- 
ess of  thought  with  many  windings  and  turns,  cul- 
minating in  ethical  monotheism,  by  which  I  mean 
a  view  of  divine  government  based  on  a  spiritual 
and  ethical  interpretation  of  the  God-idea. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  rediscovery  of  Babylonia 
and  Assyria  through  the  excavations  conducted  on 
the  sites  of  ancient  cities  in  the  Euphrates  Valley 
and  along  the  banks  of  the  Tigris  has  placed  at 
the  disposal  of  students  an  enormous  mass  of  ma- 
terial which  has  thrown  much  light  on  the  origin 
of  the  traditions  and  early  beliefs  of  the  Hebrews; 
it  has  demonstrated  that  Hebrew  history  is  unin- 
telligible without  constant  recourse  to  the  data  ob- 
tained from  cuneiform  literature.  Hebrews  and 
Babylonians  start  out  on  their  careers  with  much 
in  common;  they  share  traditions  regarding  the 
manner  in  which  the  world  came  into  being,  they 
have  common  traditions  regarding  a  disastrous  Del- 
uge that  swept  over  the  part  of  the  world  known 
to  them.  The  source  of  the  antediluvian  chronology 
of  the  Bible  is  to  be  sought  in  traditions  current  in 
the  Euphrates  Valley;  and  there  is  a  steady  stream 
of  influence  emanating  more  particularly  from  Baby- 
lonia from  a  very  early  period  onward  that  helps 
to  maintain  a  close  association  with  beliefs  and 
practices  among  the  Hebrews  up  to  the  time  when 


PREFACE  ix 

the  latter  begin  to  move  in  an  entirely  different 
and  novel  direction.  To  be  sure,  there  are  other 
influences  at  work  in  the  early  history  of  the  He- 
brews besides  those  that  are  to  be  traced  to  Baby- 
lonia and  Assyria.  Some  of  the  tribes  forming  part 
of  the  confederacy  of  the  Bene  Israel  had  at  one 
time  much  in  common  with  the  nomad  Arabs,  and 
all  of  them  with  the  agricultural  Canaanites  whom 
they  gradually  dispossessed,  but  who  passed  on  to 
the  conquerors  many  of  their  religious  practices. 
Egyptian  culture  also  must  have  had  some  share  in 
bringing  about  conditions  that  arose  in  Palestine, 
but  Babylonia  by  virtue  of  early  associations  and 
by  almost  continuous  contact,  though  closer  at  some 
periods  than  at  others,  is  the  most  important  ele- 
ment in  that  phase  of  Hebrew  life  and  thought  with 
which  we  are  concerned  in  this  work. 

Accepting  the  ascertained  results  of  modern  re- 
search, the  question,  then,  with  which  we  are  con- 
fronted is  to  account  for  the  tremendous  influence 
exerted  by  Hebrew  traditions  in  the  form  finally 
given  to  them,  and  to  explain  why  the  religious 
thought  and  practices  of  the  Hebrews  became,  with 
the  heritage  of  Greek  and  Roman  culture,  the  foun- 
dation structure  on  which  the  superstructure  of 
modern  civilisation  has  been  erected.  That  fact  is 
as  undeniable  as  are  the  postulates  of  biblical  crit- 
icism and  of  archaeological  investigations. 

Despite  the  many  essays,  monographs,  and  larger 
works  that  have  appeared  during  the  past  three 
decades  on  the  various  phases  of  the  relationship 


x  PREFACE 

existing  between  Hebrews  and  Babylonians,  I  feel 
that  there  is  room  and  need  for  a  work  like  this 
one,  devoted  primarily  to  pointing  out  the  differ- 
ences between  Babylonian  myths,  beliefs,  and  prac- 
tices, and  the  final  form  assumed  by  corresponding 
Hebrew  traditions,  despite  the  circumstance  that 
these  traditions  are  to  be  traced  back  to  the  same 
source  which  gave  rise  to  the  Babylonian  traditions 
as  we  find  them  in  the  literature  of  Babylonia  and 
of  the  offshoot  of  Babylonia — Assyria. 

This,  then,  is  my  purpose  as  set  forth  more  fully 
in  the  first  chapter  and  as  emphasised  in  all  of  the 
chapters.  It  is  quite  likely  that  the  book  will  not 
be  pleasing  to  "extremists,"  whether  of  the  ultra- 
conservative  type,  who  present  a  resolute  front 
against  departures  from  traditional  views  regarding 
the  books  of  the  Old  Testament,  or  of  the  equally 
rigid  ultra-unemotional  type  who,  with  a  limited 
historical  horizon,  are  unable  to  enter  sympathet- 
ically into  the  unfolding  of  the  religious  thought  of 
a  people  and  are  inclined  to  belittle  the  value  of 
religious  beliefs  as  a  factor  in  human  evolution,  for 
fear  of  appearing  to  countenance  a  religious  attitude 
with  which  they  themselves  are  not  in  accord.  One 
can  readily  understand  how  even  learned  and  con- 
scientious scholars  through  a  determination  to  cling 
to  certain  views  can  acquire  an  attitude  of  mind 
which  prevents  them  from  weighing  evidence  judi- 
ciously and  fairly.  This  observation  applies  particu- 
larly to  those  who  deceive  themselves  by  imagining 
that  they  are  pursuing  studies  in  an  open-minded 


PREFACE  xi 

spirit,  whereas  in  reality  they  are  merely  seeking  a 
confirmation  of  views  which  they  hold  quite  inde- 
pendently of  their  studies,  and  generally  held  antece- 
dent to  any  investigation.  But  the  observation  may 
be  extended  also  to  scholars  of  a  more  scientific  type 
who,  in  a  spirit  of  reaction  against  views  which  they 
have  come  to  regard  as  untenable,  fail  to  penetrate 
into  the  depths  of  their  subject  because  too  much 
absorbed  in  the  externalities — in  textual  criticism,  or 
in  investigations  of  special  points  without  reference 
to  the  necessary  relationship  of  even  the  infinitesi- 
mal parts  of  a  subject  to  the  subject  as  a  whole. 

Whatever  may  be  the  verdict  pronounced  on  the 
method  followed  in  my  work  and  on  the  results 
reached  by  me  through  this  method,  I  feel  that  I 
may  assure  my  readers  that  I  have  approached  the 
many  difficult  and  delicate  themes  included  in  this 
work  in  a  spirit  of  pure  historical  inquiry,  and  in 
a  frame  of  mind  free  from  bias,  without  any  predilec- 
tions for  any  special  theological  postulates.  Indeed, 
I  have  aimed  to  keep  my  own  position  towards  the 
problems  presented  by  the  study  of  ancient  relig- 
ions in  the  background,  except  in  so  far  as  my  per- 
sonal creed  includes  a  sympathetic  attitude  towards 
the  struggle  of  man  everywhere  and  at  all  times  to 
reach  out  to  an  understanding  of  the  mysteries  by 
which  he  is  surrounded — mysteries  that  even  in 
early  stages  of  culture  are  dimly  perceived,  and  that 
become  more  clearly  defined  and  correspondingly 
more  profound  as  with  enlarged  experience  and  with 
increasing  knowledge  man  realises  how  much  must 


xii  PREFACE 

always  remain  for  him  within  the  shadow  of  the 
unknown  and  the  unknowable — the  dark  impene- 
trable territory  beyond  the  border  line,  to  which 
Job's  paradox  (10  :  22)  may  be  applied,  "where 
even  light  is  as  darkness." 

Naturally,  in  a  single  course  of  five  lectures  only 
certain  phases  of  the  large  topic  could  be  treated. 
I  chose  those  which  seemed  to  be  of  greatest  impor- 
tance and  which  seemed  best  adapted  to  illustrate 
the  different  directions  taken  by  Hebrew  and  Baby- 
lonian traditions,  namely,  the  views  about  Creation, 
the  relationship  existing  between  the  Hebrew  and 
Babylonian  Sabbath,  the  unfolding  of  beliefs  regard- 
ing the  after-life,  and  a  survey  of  Hebrew  and  Baby- 
lonian ethics.  These  aspects  are  sufficiently  diverse 
to  test  the  application  of  the  main  thesis  in  the 
investigation.  Perhaps  on  another  occasion  I  shall 
take  up  in  the  same  way  a  comparative  study  of 
Hebrew  and  Babylonian  legislation,  of  sacrificial 
rites,  of  divination  practices,  of  marriage  and  funeral 
customs,  and  of  the  position  of  woman,  all  of  which 
are  calculated  to  illustrate  the  distinctive  features 
of  each  of  the  two  civilisations.  Since,  however,  in 
the  course  of  the  subjects  treated  in  the  five  chap- 
ters, I  had  occasion  to  refer  several  times  to  the 
biblical  and  Babylonian  narratives  of  the  Deluge, 
I  have  thought  it  useful  both  on  this  account  and 
because  it  was  George  Smith's  discovery  in  1872 
of  a  fragment  of  the  Babylonian  Deluge  story1  that 

1  Read  before  the  Society  of  Biblical  Archaeology  at  the  memorable 
meeting  on  December  3,  1872,  and  published  in  the  Transactions  of  the 
Society,  vol.  II,  pp.  213-234. 


PREFACE  xiii 

originated   the   study   of  Babylonian    and    Hebrew 
traditions,  to  add  in  an  appendix  an  analysis  with 
copious  extracts  of  the  various  versions  of  the  Baby- 
lonian   tale    regarding   the  great   catastrophe   that 
overwhelmed   mankind,    and   then  to  set   forth    as 
an  illustration  of  the   modern  method  of  biblical 
study  the  two  accounts  of  the  Deluge  in  Genesis 
that  have  been  dovetailed  into  a  continuous  narra- 
tive.    Incidental  remarks   and   a  summary  at  the 
close  of  this  Appendix  will  show  how  the  point  of 
view  from  which  the  ancient  tradition  is  regarded 
in  its  transformed  garb  in  Genesis  is  in  keeping  with 
the  process  to  be  detected  in  the  biblical  Creation 
stories  and  in  other  traditions,  such  as  the  tale  of 
mans   forfeiture    of   Paradise.     I    am    particularly 
indebted  to  Dr.  Arno   Poebel   for  his   kindness   in 
placing  at  my  disposal  the  advance  sheets  of  his 
forthcoming  publication  of  Sumerian  texts  contain- 
ing the  oldest  known  versions  of  both  the  Creation 
and    Deluge   myths   of  ancient   Babylonia.     These 
texts  Dr.  Poebel  discovered  among  the  tablets  found 
at  Nippur  by  the  expedition  of  the  University  of 
Pennsylvania,  and  which  are  now  in  the  Museum 
of  Archaeology  of  the  University.     Dr.  Poebel  has 
been   actively  at  work  since  the  summer  of  1912 
on  the  valuable  material  unearthed  at  Nippur,  and 
his  publication  which  is  to  appear  in  several  volumes 
and  which  will  greatly  advance  also  our  knowledge 
of  Sumerian,  the  ancient  non-Semitic  speech  of  the 
Euphrates  Valley,  is  being  looked  forward  to  with 
great  interest.     His  generosity  in   allowing  me  to 


xiv  PREFACE 

utilise  the  results  of  his  labours  even  before  their 
formal  appearance  has  enabled  me,  in  the  Appendix, 
to  place  before  my  readers  the  relationship  of  the 
oldest  Babylonian  version  of  the  Deluge  to  the 
latest  one  as  embodied  in  the  Gilgamesh  Epic — the 
most  notable  literary  production  of  Babylonia. 

My  thanks  are  also  due,  as  on  all  former  occasions, 
to  my  wife,  who  has  carefully  read  the  whole  of  the 
manuscript  as  well  as  the  proofs.  Traces  of  her 
valuable  suggestions  are  to  be  found  on  almost 
every  page.  Realising  her  conscientious  devotion 
to  a  most  unselfish  task,  I  feel  how  inadequate  the 
mere  word  of  acknowledgment  is  to  convey  my 
feelings  of  gratitude  towards  her. 

I  am  also  under  obligations  to  my  dear  friend 
and  colleague,  Professor  James  A.  Montgomery,  of 
the  University  of  Pennsylvania,  for  his  kindness  in 
reading  a  proof  of  the  entire  book,  and  in  letting 
me  have  the  benefit  of  his  valuable  criticisms  and 
suggestions.  My  pupil,  Dr.  B.  B.  Charles,  now  in- 
structor of  Semitic  languages  at  the  University  of 
Pennsylvania,  kindly  undertook  to  prepare  the  index 
for  the  volume,  and  he  has  carried  out  the  task  in 
the  same  careful  manner  that  marked  his  work  on 
a  former  occasion.  I  feel  deeply  grateful  to  him 
for  transferring  this  task  from  my  shoulders  to  his 
more  youthful  ones.  The  lectures  appear  here  in 
an  entirely  revised  and  considerably  enlarged  form 
from  that  originally  given  to  them  for  oral  delivery. 
In  order  to  adapt  them  to  a  reading  public,  I  have 
also  in  all  except  a  few  instances  removed  the  ear- 


PREFACE  xv 

marks  of  the  lecture  style,  but  I  trust  that  if  I 
shall  be  fortunate  enough  to  have  among  my  readers 
some  who  listened  so  sympathetically  to  the  spoken 
word,  they  will  recognise  that  the  spirit  has  not 
been  altered.  They  will  also  find  questions  which 
could  be  only  partially  discussed  in  the  lectures 
more  fully  treated  in  the  enlarged  book.  For  me  the 
week  spent  amidst  the  charming  surroundings  of 
Oberlin  College  while  delivering  the  lectures  will  re- 
main always  a  happy  recollection.  I  feel  under 
special  obligations  to  Professor  Albert  T.  Swing,  on 
whom  fell  the  burden  of  making  the  arrangements 
for  these  lectures,  and  who  contributed  so  much  to 
the  pleasure  of  my  stay. 

Lastly,  I  regard  it  as  a  privilege  to  be  permitted 
to  dedicate  this  volume  to  a  dear  and  highly  es- 
teemed friend,  whose  friendship  has  been  a  source 
of  happiness  and  of  strength  to  me  during  a  long 
term  of  years. 

Morris  Jastrow,  Jr. 

University  of  Pennsylvania, 
December,  1913. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

I.     Relations  between  Hebrews  and  Baby- 
lonians   


II.    The  Hebrew  and  Babylonian  Accounts  of 

Creation 65 

III.  The  Hebrew  and  Babylonian  Sabbath  .     .  134 

IV.  The   Hebrew  and   Babylonian  Views   of 

Life  after  Death 196 

V.     Hebrew  and  Babylonian  Ethics       .     .     .  254 

Appendix — Hebrew  and    Babylonian   Ac- 
counts of  the  Deluge 321 

Index 367 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN 
TRADITIONS 

CHAPTER  I 

RELATIONS  BETWEEN  HEBREWS  AND 
BABYLONIANS 

I 

It  will  be  my  main  aim  in  this  investigation  to 
set  forth  some  of  the  aspects  presented  by  a  com- 
parison of  two  civilisations  that  have  much  in  com- 
mon, that  were  developed  by  peoples  belonging  in 
part  to  the  same  stock,  and  that  have  both  exer- 
cised a  wide  influence,  though  in  totally  different 
directions.  Despite  many  features  in  common,  each 
of  these  civilisations  went  its  own  way,  the  one 
unfolding  great  political  strength,  supported  by  an 
elaborate  military  organisation,  and  producing,  as 
outward  expressions  of  this  strength,  monuments 
of  gigantic  proportions, — temples  and  palaces  filled 
with  works  of  art;  it  built  great  cities,  created  an 
extensive  commerce,  and  made  certain  permanent 
contributions  to  the  thought  and  achievements  of 
mankind;  the  other,  with  little  of  outward  display, 
politically  insignificant,  working  out  its  destiny  with 
apparently  no  thought  of  any  extension  of  its  influ- 

1 


2       HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

ence  beyond  narrow  boundaries,  yet  becoming  one 
of  the  most  potent  factors  in  the  religious  history 
of  mankind.  The  problem  involved  in  a  compari- 
son between  the  Hebrew  civilisation  and  the  Eu- 
phratean  culture,  as  we  may  briefly  designate  the 
Babylonian-Assyrian  civilisation,  since  Assyria  is 
merely  an  extension  of  the  impulse  that  arose  in 
the  south  and  extended  to  the  north,  is  to  deter- 
mine the  point  of  separation  between  the  two  that 
led  to  such  totally  different  issues.  Why  is  it — we 
may  properly  ask — that  with  agreement  in  regard 
to  many  traditions,  with  religious  ideas  and  prac- 
tices that  at  one  time  bore  a  close  resemblance  to 
one  another,  with  a  general  view  of  life,  of  divine 
government,  of  the  fate  of  man  after  death,  of  prac- 
tical ethics  at  the  outset  not  sharply  differentiated 
from  one  another,  the  courses  taken  by  Hebrew  and 
Babylonian  traditions  were  so  dissimilar.  For  it 
is  to  the  different  courses  taken  by  this  common 
stock  of  traditional  ideas  and  practices  that  the 
contrast  presented  by  Hebrews  and  Babylonians  is 
to  be  traced — a  contrast  no  less  striking  than  the 
points  of  resemblance  that  once  existed  between 
the  two  civilisations.  These  resemblances  have  often 
been  treated  during  the  past  decades,  both  in  spe- 
cial investigations  and  in  general  summaries.  They 
have  been  discussed  from  various  points  of  view: 
on  the  one  hand,  by  critics  whose  aim  appeared  to 
have  been  to  show  the  dependence  of  Hebrew  ideas 
upon  those  of  Babylonia  and  Assyria;  and  on  the 
other,  by  those  whose  view-point  was  directed  to- 


HEBREWS  AND  BABYLONIANS  3 

wards  securing  confirmation  of  the  data  presented 
by  biblical  records.  I  have  little  sympathy  with 
either  mode  of  treatment.  To  extend  the  claims 
of  Babylonian-Assyrian  civilisation  so  as  to  make 
Hebrew  achievements  merely  a  pale  reflection  of  the 
picture  presented  by  Euphratean  culture  is  to  forfeit 
the  possibility  of  any  real  understanding  of  the 
spirit  of  Hebrew  history,  is  to  miss  the  point  of 
that  history,  and  to  abandon  the  key  that  will  en- 
able us  to  solve  the  problem  involved  in  the  pro- 
found influence  exerted  by  the  religious  thought  of 
the  Hebrews.  On  the  other  hand,  to  press  the  apol- 
ogetic attitude  to  the  extent  of  assuming  the  un- 
approachable quality  of  the  entire  Old  Testament 
without  distinguishing  between  incidental  and  es- 
sential elements,  and  to  carry  on  our  historical  re- 
search merely  with  a  purpose  of  finding  a  confir- 
mation of  preconceived  points  of  view,  is  to  place 
the  Old  Testament  in  a  false  light  and  to  pursue 
a  method  that  is  both  vicious  and  disingenuous. 
We  must  frankly  and  unreservedly  take  as  our  start- 
ing-point in  a  comparative  study  of  Babylonian 
and  Hebrew  traditions,  the  factor  of  evolution,  by 
which  I  mean  the  assumption  of  a  progress  in  re- 
ligious thought,  and  apply  that  factor  to  Hebrew 
history  precisely  in  the  same  manner  and  to  the 
same  degree  as  to  the  history  of  Babylonia  and  As- 
syria. The  Hebrews  were  subject  to  outside  influ- 
ences in  precisely  the  same  manner  and  to  the  same 
degree  as  were  all  other  ethnic  groups.  They  begin 
their  career  with    the    same    mental    equipment  as 


4       HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

other  nations;  the  differentiating  factor  in  He- 
brew history  is  to  be  found  in  the  outcome  and  not 
in  anything  that  has  to  do  with  its  beginnings. 
That  history  is  unfolded  under  the  same  laws  to 
be  observed  elsewhere  in  the  annals  of  a  people. 
What  gives  to  the  history  of  the  Hebrews  its  unique 
quality  from  a  certain  period  is  the  introduction 
of  an  element  that,  as  an  expression  of  the  pecul- 
iar genius  of  the  people,  gradually  changes  the  en- 
tire aspect  of  their  attitude  towards  life.  Gradual 
growth  must  be  assumed  and  not  a  sudden  depar- 
ture from  the  normal — gradual  growth  in  the  polit- 
ical and  social  life  and  in  the  religious  life  as  well. 
We  can  trace  this  religious  growth  in  the  pages  of 
the  Old  Testament  with  the  same  definiteness  that 
we  can  follow  the  political  and  social  unfolding  of 
the  people,  and  even  where  our  material  is  insuffi- 
cient for  following  this  evolution  in  detail,  we  must 
nevertheless  assume  such  evolution  or  involve  our- 
selves in  hopeless  difficulties  from  which  we  can 
extract  ourselves  only  by  sophistry  or  by  some 
other  form  of  vicious  reasoning.  It  will  therefore  be 
one  of  my  aims  to  elucidate  the  special  and  pecul- 
iar element  in  Hebrew  history  which,  manifesting 
itself  in  diverse  ways,  leads  to  a  wide  deflection  of 
Hebrew  traditions  from  their  Babylonian  counter- 
parts. Our  comparative  study  will  be  directed 
chiefly  towards  an  elucidation  of  the  ultimate 
differences  that  arise  between  Hebrew  and  Baby- 
lonian points  of  view  despite  earlier  and  very 
noticeable  points  of  agreement;    and  I  venture  to 


HEBREWS  AND  BABYLONIANS  5 

think  that  the  real  value  of  a  comparative  study 
of  any  kind  lies  in  bringing  out  differences.  Only 
a  superficial  view  of  comparisons  stops  at  pointing 
out  resemblances. 

Gradual  growth  involves  survivals,  that  is  to  say, 
indications  of  older  views  and  customs  carried  over 
into  later  periods.  Evolution  means  not  only  trans- 
formations through  historical  processes,  but  a  mix- 
ture of  old  and  new.  It  will  therefore  be  also 
part  of  my  purpose  to  trace  the  process  of  growth 
in  both  Hebrew  and  Babylonian  traditions,  and  to 
show  in  how  far  older  views  were  replaced,  how  far 
they  survived,  and  how,  combined  with  new  thought, 
they  gave  rise  to  new  religious  practices. 

II 

It  was  to  be  foreseen  at  an  early  stage  in  the 
exploration  of  Babylonian  and  Assyrian  cities — the 
work  of  the  last  seventy  years1 — and  in  the  study 
of  the  material  unearthed,  that  the  bearings  of  this 
material  upon  Hebrew  traditions,  on  Hebrew  his- 
tory, and  on  Hebrew  religious  ideas  would  be  mani- 
fold and  important.  Hebrew  traditions  carried  back 
the  beginnings  of  the  Hebrews  to  settlements  in 
the  Euphrates  Valley.  Nay  more,  the  first  home 
of  mankind  was  fixed  in  this  region,  as  is  suffi- 
ciently evidenced  by  the  mention  of  two  rivers,  the 
Euphrates  and  Tigris,  watering  the  Garden  of  Eden, 

1  A  full  account  of  these  explorations  will  be  found  in  chapter  I  of 
a  forthcoming  work  of  the  author,  The  Civilization  of  Babylonia  and 
Assyria. 


6       HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

where  the  first  man  and  his  consort  were  placed. 
A  writer  intent  upon  giving  an  answer  to  two  fun- 
damental questions,  how  mankind  came  to  be  dis- 
persed over  the  face  of  the  globe,  and  why  there 
are  so  many  different  languages,1  tells  the  curious 
tale  in  the  tenth  chapter  of  Genesis — itself  a  com- 
bination of  two  stories,  one  about  the  building 
of  a  city,  the  other  of  a  high  tower — which  repre- 
sents the  dispersion  as  radiating  from  the  city  of 
Babylon  in  the  land  of  Shinar  (a  general  term  for 
the  Euphrates  Valley)  as  a  centre,  and  the  con- 
fusion of  languages  as  a  device  of  Yahweh  to  pre- 
vent the  people  from  carrying  out  their  design  to 
build  the  tower.  The  city  of  Babylon  symbolised 
for  the  writer  the  entire  civilisation  of  the  Euphra- 
tes Valley.  The  tower  that  the  writer  had  in  mind 
was  a  characteristic  feature  of  the  sacred  architec- 
ture in  the  Euphrates  Valley — the  staged  construc- 
tion with  broad  terraces,  heaped  one  above  the  other 
in  imitation  of  a  mountain,  with  a  winding  road 
leading  to  the  top  where  the  deity  to  whom  the 
tower  was  dedicated  had  his  seat.2  The  story  thus 
not  only  takes  us  back  to  Babylonia,  but  represents 
a  characteristic  protest  of  Old  Testament  writers 
against  Babylonish  customs.  It  voices  the  feelings 
of  these  writers  towards  Babylonia  as  a  wicked  place, 
as  a  source  of  mankind's  misfortunes  and  ills. 

The  contact  between  the  Euphrates  Valley  and 
Palestine  is  maintained  in  Hebrew  traditions  after 

1  See  below,  p.  56. 

2  See  Jastrow,  Aspects  of  Belief  and  Practice  in  Babylonia  and  Assyria, 
pp.  282  seq. 


HEBREWS  AND  BABYLONIANS  7 

the  migration  of  the  Terahites  from  Ur  and  Ha- 
ran.  Abraham  sends  his  servant  to  his  old  home 
in  order  to  obtain  a  wife  for  his  son  from  there — 
an  indication  of  the  persistency  of  the  tradition 
which  assumed  close  bonds  between  the  Hebrew 
settlements  in  Palestine  and  the  Euphrates  Valley. 
From  the  Babylonian  side  we  find  this  relationship 
in  the  political  sense  confirmed;  for  an  ancient  con- 
queror, Sargon,  who  is  to  be  placed  somewhere 
around  2600  B.  C,  extends  his  sway  to  the  west- 
ern lands  comprised  under  the  name  of  Amurru, 
which,  in  the  broad  sense,  included  Palestine.  A 
thousand  years  later  we  find  the  Babylonian  lan- 
guage as  the  current  medium  of  diplomatic  exchange 
between  Palestine  and  Egypt.  The  reference  to  a 
"cloak  of  Shinar"  (Jos.  7  :  21)  in  the  account  of 
the  Hebrew  conquest  of  Jericho  is  an  interesting 
testimony  to  commercial  intercourse  between  Pal- 
estine and  Babylonia;  and  I  need  hardly  remind 
you  of  the  way  in  which  Assyria  and  Babylonia 
interfered  with  the  fortunes  of  the  Hebrew  king- 
doms, from  the  middle  of  the  ninth  century  on, 
leading  directly  to  the  destruction  of  both.  It  was 
therefore  a  moment  of  intense  interest  (though  it 
ought  not  to  have  been  a  surprise)  when  in  the  his- 
torical annals  found  in  the  remains  of  Babylonian 
and  Assyrian  cities  scholars  began  to  read  of  these 
political  relations.  Subsequently,  traditions  con- 
cerned with  the  Creation  of  the  world  and  with  a 
disastrous  Deluge  that  recalled  the  narratives  in  the 
early  chapters  of  Genesis  began  to  come  to  light. 


8        HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

Interest  in  Babylonian-Assyrian  research  was  in- 
creased when,  on  penetrating  still  deeper  into  the 
religious  literature  and  religious  customs  of  Baby- 
lonia and  Assyria,  institutions  and  rites  were  re- 
vealed for  which  parallels  could  be  found  in  the 
pages  of  the  Old  Testament,  including  views  re- 
garding life  after  death  and  hymns  expressive  of 
ideas  that  reminded  us  of  what  was  found  in  bib- 
lical psalms,  and  that  were  couched  in  phrases  strik- 
ingly similar  to  biblical  parlance.  It  is  with  this 
material  that  we  are  chiefly  concerned  in  this  in- 
vestigation; but,  in  order  to  understand  its  real  bear- 
ings, we  must  stop  for  a  few  moments  to  consider 
the  origin  and  character  of  Babylonian  civilisation 
which  spread  from  the  south — the  Euphrates  Val- 
ley— to  the  north,  or  to  what  was  known  as  Assyria. 
The  impulse  to  the  development  of  a  high  degree 
of  culture  in  the  Euphrates  Valley  came  from  the 
mixture  of  two  heterogeneous  races — Semites,  whose 
oldest  designation  appears  to  have  been  Akkadians, 
and  a  non-Semitic  people  known  as  Sumerians,  who 
gave  their  name  to  the  valley  which  survives,  in  a 
somewhat  distorted  form,  as  Shinar  in  the  book  of 
Genesis.  Whether  the  Semites  or  the  non-Semites 
were  the  first  settlers  is  a  question  which  in .  the 
present  state  of  our  knowledge  cannot  be  deter- 
mined. The  indications  are — such,  at  least,  is  my 
view1 — that  the  Semites  were  the  first  to  arrive  and 
there  are  reasons  for  believing  that  they  came  from 
the  northeastern  or  northwestern  region  known  as 

1  Following  Eduard  Meyer,  Sumerier  und  Semiten  in  Babylonien,  p.  in. 


HEBREWS  AND  BABYLONIANS  9 

Amurru,  though  the  majority  of  scholars  still  in- 
cline to  central  Arabia  as  the  oldest  centre  from 
which  Semitic  hordes  first  entered  the  valley.  These 
Semites,  taking  up  a  settled  form  of  life  in  ex- 
change for  earlier  nomadic  habits,  cultivated  the 
soil  and  had  probably  made  some  advances  on  the 
road  to  civilisation  when  the  Sumerians,  entering 
either  from  the  northwestern  or  from  the  northeast- 
ern mountainous  districts,  conquered  the  country. 
What  the  state  of  Sumerian  civilisation  was  at  the 
time  is  also  a  pure  matter  of  conjecture.  The  con- 
querors must  have  been  superior  to  the  Semites,  for 
in  the  oldest  period  to  which  our  sources  at  present 
take  us,  we  find  the  Sumerians  in  more  or  less  com- 
plete control.  The  language  of  the  oldest  historical 
inscriptions  is  Sumerian,  the  commercial  documents 
down  to  about  2000  B.  C.  are  likewise  largely  in 
Sumerian.  To  this  oldest  period  belong  Sumerian 
votive  inscriptions,  Sumerian  hymns  and  lamenta- 
tions, rituals  appealing  to  the  gods  to  desist  from 
their  wrath  which  had  manifested  itself  in  some  po- 
litical catastrophe  or  in  havoc  wrought  by  destruc- 
tive storms;  and  it  is  a  fair  inference  that  the 
script  developing  from  a  pictorial  or  hieroglyphic 
form  of  writing  was  the  invention  of  the  Sumerians, 
though  developed  with  Semitic  co-operation.  For, 
even  in  this  earliest  period,  Semitic  influences  may 
be  detected.  We  find  Semitic  names  and  Semitic 
words  in  very  early  inscriptions.  The  Sumerians 
brought  their  gods  with  them  but,  as  always  hap- 
pened in  the  case  of  conquests  in  early  days,  the 


10      HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

conquerors  also  adopted  the  gods  of  the  region  into 
which  they  came  and  transformed  the  character  of 
their  own  deities  to  conform  to  the  new  conditions 
by  which  they  were  surrounded.  One  of  the  oldest 
centres  of  Sumerian  settlements  that  acquired  the 
rank  of  a  religious  as  well  as  of  a  political  capital 
was  Nippur.  The  patron  deity  of  Nippur,  Enlil 
(or  Ellil),  was  brought  there  by  the  Sumerians  from 
their  mountain  homes,  and,  like  most  gods  who  have 
their  seat  on  mountain  tops,  was  a  personification 
of  the  storms  and  tempests,  of  the  thunder  and  the 
lightning.  Transferred  to  a  valley  in  which  agri- 
culture was  the  mainstay  of  the  population,  Enlil 
was  associated  with  an  earlier  deity,  Enmasht1 — 
commonly  spoken  of  as  Ninib — who  presided  over 
vegetation  and  the  fertility  of  the  soil.  Enlil,  as 
the  god  of  the  conquerors,  becomes  the  father,  and 
Enmasht  the  son.  This  relationship  merely  mir- 
rors the  superiority  of  the  newcomer  who  takes  on 
the  traits  of  Enmasht,  and  as  the  head  of  the  pan- 
theon receives  the  attributes  most  needed  by  a 
deity  in  whose  hands  the  welfare  of  an  agricultural 
population  lay.  In  this  way  then  and  in  various 
others,  the  religion  of  the  Sumerians  is  transformed 
through  adaptation  to  their  new  surroundings,  a 
transformation  that  extends  to  the  adoption  into 
their  pantheon  of  deities  already  worshipped  in  the 
district  to  which  they  had  come,  and  which  carries 
with  it  the  adoption  of  religious  rites,  festivals,  and 
forms  of  appeal  suitable  to  agricultural  communi- 

1  See  Clay,  Amurru,  p.  12 1. 


HEBREWS  AND  BABYLONIANS  11 

ties.  Both  elements  of  the  population,  therefore, 
contribute  to  the  further  unfolding  of  religious  ideas 
and  customs,  just  as  the  general  advance  in  civili- 
sation is  due  to  mutual  co-operation  and  mutual 
influence,  although  the  one  element  remained  for 
a  long  time  the  predominating  factor.  The  result  is 
a  Sumero-Akkadian  civilisation  arising  from  the 
stimulus  of  one  ethnic  group  meeting  another. 
The  observation  has  general  application  that  a  high 
order  of  civilisation  arises  only  through  the  com- 
bination of  two  or  more  ethnic  factors.  The  mix- 
ture of  races  because  of  this  mutual  stimulus  al- 
ways produces  a  higher  type  of  culture  than  is 
brought  about  by  a  race  that  holds  itself  aloof  from 
others.  An  absolutely  pure  race  probably  does  not 
exist.  If  it  did,  it  is  safe  to  predict  that  it  would 
not  proceed  far  along  the  road  of  civilisation  with- 
out dying  of  inanition.  The  great  and  the  greatest 
achievements  of  mankind  in  the  domain  of  cul- 
ture, in  government,  in  art,  in  literature,  in  philo- 
sophic thought,  and  in  scholarship  have  been  ac- 
complished by  the  mixed  races — by  the  Greeks  with 
the  admixture  of  Asiatic  elements;  by  the  Romans 
with  the  admixture  of  the  Etruscans  as  the  for- 
eign mass  to  leaven  the  Italic  stock;  by  the  Egyp- 
tians, a  mixture  of  Hamitic  and  Semitic  groups. 
Even  among  the  ancient  Hebrews  we  encounter 
the  admixture  of  foreign  groups  which  include  Hittite 
elements.  The  Pentateuchal  Codes  protest  against 
the  commingling  with  the  "seven"  nations  as  they 
are  conventionally  termed,  with  an  insistency  that 


12      HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

proves    the    extent    to    which    the   admixture    had 
proceeded. 

The  predominance  of  the  Sumerian  eAement  begins 
to  wane  about  the  middle  of  the  third  millennium 
B.  C,  perhaps  already  some  centuries  earlier.  The 
impending  change  in  control  manifests  itself  at  first 
by  the  breaking  up  of  the  Euphrates  Valley  into 
separate  districts,  each  grouped  around  some  city — 
as  a  political  and  religious  centre — no  one  of  which 
seemed  strong  enough  to  hold  the  others  under  its 
control.1  At  most,  we  now  find  one  or  the  other 
of  these  districts  or  states  exercising  a  jurisdiction 
over  some  adjoining  one,  and  this  for  a  limited 
period,  to  be  followed  by  a  reversal  that  brings  a 
rival  state  more  prominently  forward.  The  strug- 
gle comes  to  a  head  in  a  more  sharply  accentuated 
rivalry  between  Sumerian  and  Akkadian  settle- 
ments, the  former  found  chiefly  in  the  more  south- 
ern sections,  the  latter  more  towards  the  north, 
though  the  geographical  division  is  not  absolute. 
Sargon,  with  his  capital  at  Agade,  a  city  not  far 
from  Babylon,  is  the  first  Semite  to  establish  a 
strong  empire;  it  is  he  who  apparently  introduces 
the  policy  of  world-conquest  which  becomes  the 
aim  of  Babylonian  and  more  particularly  of  Assyr- 
ian rulers.  Sargon  spreads  his  victorious  arms  in 
all  directions  and  founds  a  real  empire,  though  of 
short  duration — a  kingdom  of  "the  four  quarters  of 
the  world,"  as  it  is  officially  designated.     The  in- 

1  See,  for  this  early  period,  L.  W.  King,  A  History  of  Sumer  and  Akkad 
(London,  1910). 


HEBREWS  AND  BABYLONIANS  13 

dependence  and  extension  of  the  rule  of  Sargon  and 
of  his  immediate  successors  is  a  symptom  of  the 
strength  that  the  Semites  had  acquired,  and  though 
a  reaction  bringing  the  Sumerians  back  to  power 
for  almost  two  centuries  sets  in,  still  the  impend- 
ing change  was  inevitable;  and  about  the  year  2000 
B.  C.  a  union  of  the  states  of  the  Euphrates  Val- 
ley was  brought  about  through  a  great  conqueror, 
the  Semite  Hammurapi1  who  establishes  his  centre 
at  Babylon,  and  with  whom  the  Semitic  conquest 
of  the  Euphrates  Valley  becomes  complete.  The 
civilisation,  however,  had  received  its  stamp  from 
the  mixture  of  Sumerian  and  Akkadian  elements, 
with  merely  a  transfer  of  the  predominance  of  the 
non-Semitic  element  to  the  Semitic  contingent. 

Ill 

It  is  about  the  time  of  Hammurapi  that  we  may 
with  probability  fix  the  migration  of  the  Terahites, 
first  from  Ur  to  Haran  and  thence  to  the  north- 
west, entering  Palestine  by  way  of  a  descent  along 
the  eastern  banks  of  the  Jordan.  The  fourteenth 
chapter  of  Genesis,  in  which  Amraphel,  King  of  Shi- 
nar  (i.e.,  of  Babylonia),  and  Abraham  are  introduced 
as  contemporaries,  is  generally  regarded — and  I 
think  correctly — as  a  very  late  addition  to  the  nar- 
ratives of  Genesis.2  Despite  this,  it  embodies  a  re- 
markable store  of  historical  tradition  which  is  either 
based  on  very  old  oral  sources  or  rests  on  the  di- 

1  Or  Hammurabi,  though  the  writing  with  p  is  more  correct. 
8  See,  e.  g.,  Skinner's  Commentary  on  Genesis,  pp.  271-6. 


14      HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

rect  use  of  written  historical  sources.  Amraphel  is 
none  other  than  Hammurapi,  and  the  spread  of 
Semitic  control  under  this  great  conqueror  fits  in 
well  with  the  movement  of  Semitic  groups  from 
Babylonia  to  the  west.  The  migration  of  the  Tera- 
hite  group  to  which  Abraham  belongs  is  part  of  this 
movement.  The  later  Jewish  rabbis  of  the  Tal- 
mudic  period  were  fond  of  spinning  out  the  tales 
of  Abraham's  relations  to  Babylonia  and  the  Baby- 
lonians,1 implied  in  the  sojourn  at  Ur  and  Haran; 
and  while  the  stories  themselves  are  purely  fanci- 
ful, how  Terah,  the  father  of  Abraham,  was  a  man- 
ufacturer of  idols,  how  the  son  gradually  realised 
the  futility  of  idol-worship  and  argued  with  his  en- 
vironment against  the  personification  of  the  powers 
of  nature  as  the  basis  of  religious  worship,  yet  the 
initiative  for  these  tales  is  the  deep-grained  recol- 
lection on  the  part  of  some  of  the  tribes  that 
eventually  formed  the  group  of  the  Bene  Israel  of 
a  close  affiliation  between  themselves  and  the  in- 
habitants of  the  Euphrates  Valley.  Youthful  mem- 
ories are  tenacious  in  the  case  of  a  group  as  of  an 
individual.  Association  with  Babylonians  necessa- 
rily entailed  an  acceptance  of  Babylonian  customs 
and  ideas  and  at  least  a  partial  absorption  of  Euphra- 
tean  culture  in  its  various  manifestations.  It  is 
therefore  most  reasonable  to  assume  that  the  agree- 
ment between  Hebrew  and  Babylonian  traditions 
regarding  the  Creation  of  the  world  and  regarding 
a  great  catastrophe  that  wiped  out  mankind  is  due 

1  See  Louis  Ginzberg,  Legends  of  the  Jews,  vol.  I,  pp.  195-216. 


HEBREWS  AND  BABYLONIANS  15 

to  this  early  contact,  just  as  on  the  other  hand  the 
tradition  which  places  the  original  habitat  of  man- 
kind in  the  Euphrates  Valley  and  such  tales  as 
that  of  the  city  and  tower  of  Babylon  represent  a 
sediment  due  to  this  same  contact.  It  is  a  natural 
process  that  leads  a  people  to  identify  the  recol- 
lections of  its  origin  with  the  origin  of  the  world; 
and  dim  and  confused  as  such  recollections  become 
in  the  course  of  time,  unless  we  assume  some  his- 
torical starting-point,  we  lose  the  possibility  of  find- 
ing a  reasonable  explanation  for  their  existence  and 
persistence. 

To  account  for  the  presence  of  nomadic  groups 
in  the  Euphrates  Valley  at  the  period  to  which  we 
are  led  back  in  tracing  the  migrations  of  tribes  that 
formed  an  element  in  the  later  confederation  of 
Hebrew  tribes,1  it  is  sufficient  to  recall  that  a  higher 
culture  is  always  a  source  of  attraction  to  those 
who  occupy  a  lower  grade.  Central  and  northern 
Arabia  formed  at  all  times  a  great  reservoir  of  no- 
madic Semitic  hordes,  the  overflow  from  which 
passed  naturally  into  the  Euphrates  Valley  which 
lay  open  to  invaders  from  almost  all  sides.  Some 
of  these  nomadic  groups  were  permanently  won 
over  to  more  settled  conditions  of  life,  and  were 
sooner  or  later  assimilated  to  the  Sumero-Akkadian 

1 1  say  "an  element"  because  It  is  now  certain  that  the  Hebrews  rep- 
resent the  result  of  a  mixture  of  various  elements,  including  probably 
Hittites  as  well  as  Arabs,  entering  Palestine  without  submitting  to  the 
mediatory  influence  of  Babylonian  civilisation.  This  mixed  character 
of  the  confederation  formed  in  the  twelfth  century  by  "Hebrew"  tribes 
accounts  for  the  double  strain  of  traditions  and  popular  customs,  one 
directing  us  to  Babylonia,  the  other  to  Arabia. 


16     HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

culture,  while  others  continued  to  move  forward 
and  backward  and  frequently  became  a  menace  to 
the  native  population.1  The  pressure  from  the 
south  appears  to  have  been  followed  at  frequent 
intervals  by  a  further  movement  of  these  nomads 
to  the  north.  One  of  the  goals  of  such  a  move- 
ment was  Syria  which  was  reached  by  following 
the  course  of  the  Euphrates  and  its  tributaries,  and 
as  pressure  followed  upon  pressure  there  ensued  the 
further  descent  towards  the  seacoast  or  into  the 
interior  along  the  valley  of  the  Jordan. 

In  return,  there  was  also  a  movement  from  Syria 
into  both  Babylonia  and  Assyria.  Recent  investiga- 
tions have  shown  that  these  Amorites,  as  the  people 
from  the  northwest  were  generally  termed,  consti- 
tute an  important  factor  in  the  Babylonian-Assyrian 
civilisation,  leaving  their  traces  in  the  names  of 
certain  deities  that  form  part  of  the  pantheon  and 
in  other  phases  of  the  Babylonian-Assyrian  religion.2 
There  thus  resulted  a  steady  shifting  of  the  popu- 
lation of  the  Euphrates  Valley,  and  to  account  for 
this,  we  must  bear  in  mind  that  the  same  ease 
which  enabled  those  accustomed  to  nomadic  life 
to  take  on  within  a  short  time  a  veneer  of  culture 
also  facilitated  the  backward  step  to  former  condi- 
tions. Arabic  history  furnishes  several  instances 
of  tribes  which,  after  some  generations  of  settled 

1  In  the  historical  inscriptions  as  well  as  in  the  legends  of  Babylonia 
and  Assyria  these  nomads  are  frequently  referred  to  as  Suti,  and  the 
probable  explanation  of  the  name  as  the  "southerners"  is  thus  indica- 
tive of  the  region  whence  they  came. 

2  See  Clay,  Amurru,  the  Home  of  the  Northern  Semites  (Philadelphia, 
1909). 


HEBREWS  AND  BABYLONIANS  17 

life,  abandoned  their  settlements  to  take  up  again 
the  untrammelled  existence  of  the  desert  and  the 
wilderness.  Moreover,  not  all  who  were  attracted 
towards  the  Euphrates  Valley  were  won  over  to 
Babylonian  culture.  The  opportunity  for  plunder 
proved  an  equally  forcible  magnet.  These  non- 
assimilating  Bedouins  likewise  passed  into  Syria  and 
thence  to  the  south  and  southwest,  and  commin- 
gling there  with  the  body  of  the  population,  pastoral 
and  agricultural,  that  had  been  subjected  to  Babylo- 
nian influences,  also  became  tainted  with  Babylonian 
ideas  and  traditions.  In  short,  the  deeper  we  pene- 
trate into  the  history  of  Babylonia,  the  more  abun- 
dant is  the  evidence  pointing  to  the  close  connec- 
tion between  the  Euphrates  Valley  and  western 
Asia  Minor  in  general.  A  famous  ruler  of  a  Baby- 
lonian state,  Gudea  of  Lagash  {c.  2400  B.  C),  finds 
it  perfectly  natural  to  send  his  emissaries  to  the 
Lebanon  range  and  to  the  Phoenician  coast  to  ob- 
tain wood  and  stone  for  his  buildings  and  works  of 
art,1  just  as,  on  the  other  hand,  he  obtains  diorite 
from  Magan  and  copper  from  Kimash.  He  speaks  of 
these  districts  as  though  they  were  outlying  provinces 
of  Babylonia,  and  we  have  already  referred  to  the 
still  earlier  notice,2  embodied  in  a  collection  of  his- 
torical omens,  of  Sargon  of  Agade  carrying  his  tri- 
umphant arms  to  Amurru  and  the  "sea  of  the  set- 
ting sun,"  by  which  the  Mediterranean  is  meant.3 
It  is  therefore  to  this  early  contact  between  Baby- 

1  See  L.  W.  King,  History  of  Sumer  and  Akkad,  p.  263. 

2  Above,  p.  7.  3  King,  ib.,  p.  225. 


18      HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

Ionia  and  the  west  that  we  must  ascribe  the  de- 
cidedly Babylonian  strain  in  Hebrew  traditions. 

To  assume,  as  has  sometimes  been  done,  that  the 
agreement  between  Hebrew  and  Babylonian  tradi- 
tions is  due  to  a  contact  in  the  later  historical  pe- 
riods, culminating  in  the  transfer  of  large  sections 
of  the  Jerusalem  population  and  of  the  surround- 
ing districts  to  the  Euphrates  Valley,  is,  I  think, 
quite  impossible.  The  people  were  in  no  mood  to 
assimilate  ideas  and  customs  from  those  who  ap- 
peared to  them  in  the  light  of  ruthless  destroyers; 
but,  quite  apart  from  this,  the  leaven  of  the  new 
teachings  introduced  by  the  Hebrew  Prophets  had 
by  this  time  begun  to  work.  The  religious  thought 
of  the  masses  was  too  advanced  even  in  the  eighth 
century,  when  the  prophetical  movement  sets  in, 
to  take  up  traditions  that  arose  among  a  people  in 
an  early  state  of  culture.  The  impression  one  re- 
ceives from  the  style  of  the  narratives  in  the  early 
chapters  of  Genesis  is  that  they  are  incorporated 
because  they  had  formed  for  many  centuries  part 
and  parcel  of  the  life  of  the  people.  The  stories 
were  too  popular  to  be  suppressed  or  crowded  out; 
they  are  therefore  transformed  and  adapted  to 
new  conditions.  The  mythical  element  is  reduced, 
as  we  shall  see,  to  a  minimum;  the  ethical  spirit  is 
introduced,  and  the  materialistic  conception  of 
Creation  is  replaced  by  a  superior  monotheistic 
interpretation  of  divine  rule.  Tales  embodying  pop- 
ular tradition  of  long  standing  are  thus  made  to 
appear  in  a  new  light.     To  be  sure,  there  was  a 


HEBREWS  AND  BABYLONIANS  19 

steady  stream  of  Babylonian  influence  into  Pales- 
tine during  the  centuries  in  which  Babylonia  exer- 
cised some  measure  of  control  over  political  affairs 
in  the  west — the  period  which  resulted  in  making 
Babylonian  speech  in  the  fifteenth  century  B.  C,  a 
medium  of  official  communication  between  gov- 
ernors of  cities  and  districts  in  Palestine  and  Syria 
and  their  Egyptian  masters.  An  adjacent  civilisa- 
tion of  a  high  order  necessarily  spreads  its  influ- 
ence in  all  directions,  and  Palestine  was  as  little 
able  to  escape  this  influence  of  Babylonian  ideas, 
Babylonian  ways,  and  Babylonian  views  of  life  as 
it  could  escape,  on  the  other  side,  the  influence  of 
the  great  civilisation  that  arose  along  the  banks  of 
the  Nile.  This  contact  between  Palestine  and  Baby- 
lonia, strongest  just  before  the  formative  period  of 
the  Hebrew  nation  in  the  thirteenth  or  fourteenth 
century  B.  C,  and  which  waned  with  the  union  of 
the  confederated  tribes  into  a  monarchy  about 
iooo  B.  C,  may  be  accounted  as  an  important  factor 
in  maintaining  the  early  traditions  in  undisturbed 
rigour;  but  even  this  period  would  be  too  late  for  the 
first  introduction  of  these  traditions. 

Moreover,  the  specific  mention  of  Ur  and  Haran 
as  stopping  places  of  the  Terahites  in  their  wander- 
ings which  eventually  brought  them  into  Palestine, 
lends  a  further  support  for  the  thesis  of  an  early 
contact  to  account  for  the  agreement  in  Hebrew 
and  Babylonian  traditions.  Both  Ur  and  Haran 
are  old  religious  and  important  political  centres,  and 
it  is  rather  curious  that  in  both  the  worship  of  the 


20      HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

moon-god,  Sin,  was  predominant.  This  can  hardly 
be  a  coincidence,  but  instead  of  seeing  in  this  cir- 
cumstance a  trace  of  a  lunar  myth  in  connection 
with  Abraham,  as  some  scholars  are  inclined  to  do,1 
it  seems  more  plausible  to  ascribe  the  juxtaposi- 
tion of  Ur  and  Haran  to  the  combination  of  two 
traditions,2  one  of  which  embodies  a  recollection  of 
a  movement  from  Ur,  the  other  from  Haran.  It 
is  quite  in  keeping  with  the  character  of  traditions, 
dimmed  by  the  lapse  of  ages  and  revived  in  the 
course  of  a  literary  process,  to  amalgamate  events 
separated  from  one  another  by  longer  or  shorter 
periods.  We  may  perhaps  even  go  a  step  farther 
and  recognise  in  the  mention  of  Ur  and  Haran  a 
recollection  of  two  periods  of  early  Babylonian  his- 
tory in  which  Ur  and  Haran  respectively  exercised 
a  supremacy  over  the  Babylonian  states.  In  re- 
gard to  Ur  we  know  that  this  was  the  case  c.  2400 
B.  C,  when  the  kings  of  Ur  claimed  sovereignty 
over  Sumer  and  Akkad,  which  had  become  the  desig- 
nation for  southern  and  northern  Babylonia.  Of 
the  older  history  of  Haran  we  know  as  yet  very 
little,  but  the  existence  of  a  sanctuary  at  the  place 
to  which  rulers  of  Babylonia  and  Assyria  as  late  as 
the  seventh  and  sixth  centuries3  pay  their  respects 
speaks  in  favour  of  the  supposition  that  the  place 
at  one  time  also  enjoyed  political  pre-eminence,  for 

1  See  Jeremias,  Das  Alte  Testament  im  Lichte  des  alien  Orients,  p.  332, 
following  the  late  Hugo  Winckler's  Geschichte  Israels,  II,  pp.  23  seq. 

2  A  similar  view  is  taken  by  Gunkel,  Genesis,  p.  145,  who,  however, 
regards  Haran  and  Ur  originally  as  variants. 

3  Johns,  An  Assyrian  Doomsday  Book,  Introduction. 


HEBREWS  AND  BABYLONIANS  21 

religion  and  rule  are  close  allies  in  ancient  Baby- 
lonia. Be  this  as  it  may,  the  specific  character  of 
the  tradition  regarding  the  sojourn  of  the  Terahites 
in  certain  Babylonian  centres  justifies  our  confi- 
dence in  its  substantial  correctness. 

Looking  upon  Babylonia  as  their  home,  it  was 
almost  inevitable  that  when  the  Hebrews  came  to 
speculate  upon  the  question  of  origins  they  should 
hit  upon  the  Euphrates  Valley  as  at  one  time  the 
home  of  all  mankind,  and  it  is  equally  natural  that 
Hebrew  writers  should  have  fallen  in  line  with  the 
Babylonian  tradition  which  regarded  the  settlement 
of  the  valley  as  the  result  of  a  movement  vaguely 
described  as  "from  the  east."1  It  is  not,  there- 
fore, as  a  real  solution  of  the  difficult  problem  of 
the  origin  of  the  human  race,  which  still  perplexes 
modern  ethnologists,  that  the  tradition  has  any 
value,  but  as  an  illustration  of  the  dependence  of 
Hebrew  views  upon  the  historical  bond  uniting  He- 
brews with  Babylonians.  This  dependence  of  itself 
would  not  necessarily  lead  to  agreement  in  regard 
to  another  problem  of  "origins" — the  origin  of  the 
world;  for  not  only  does  speculation  on  this  prob- 
lem begin  at  an  earlier  period  in  the  cultural  devel- 
opment of  a  people  than  attempts  to  specify  a  place 
as  the  original  home  of  mankind,  but  it  is  precisely 
in  Creation  myths  that  the  individuality  of  a  people 
and  the  reflex  of  its  immediate  surroundings  manifest 
themselves.  While  there  is,  of  course,  a  general 
similarity  between  the  Creation  stories  of  people 
^en.  ii  :  2. 


22      HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

living  in  a  state  of  primitive  culture,  this  similar- 
ity affects  chiefly  the  limitations  of  the  primitive 
intellect  which  cannot  conceive  of  any  real  begin- 
ning. But  apart  from  this,  the  variations  of  the  man- 
ner in  which  the  world  is  supposed  to  have  been 
set  in  motion  constitute  the  striking  feature  of 
primitive  Creation  myths.  It  would  therefore  have 
been  quite  within  the  range  of  possibility  for  the 
Hebrews  to  have  produced  a  Creation  myth  of  their 
own,  either  before  they  found  their  way  into  Baby- 
lonia or  after  they  had  entered  Palestine.  But  if 
we  encounter  in  the  first  two  chapters  of  Genesis 
Creation  stories  clearly  modelled  upon  Babylonian 
prototypes,  the  obvious  conclusion  is  that  the  early 
contact  between  Babylonians  and  Hebrews  exerted 
a  profound  religious  as  well  as  a  social  influence. 
The  only  hypothesis,  then,  that  meets  the  condi- 
tions involved  is  the  one  assuming  a  very  early  relig- 
ious influence  exerted  by  Babylonian  ideas  upon 
those  who  moved  into  the  Euphrates  Valley,  and 
which  was  maintained  by  that  contact  between 
Babylonia  and  the  Semitic  settlements  to  the  west 
up  to  the  borders  of  the  Mediterranean,  which,  as  we 
have  seen,  was  practically  uninterrupted  for  several 
millenniums. 

If  the  biblical  tradition  which  carries  the  history 
of  the  Hebrews  back  to  an  old  settlement  in  Baby- 
lonia has  any  value,  it  points  to  a  deep  and  perma- 
nent impress  made  upon  the  people  during  their 
"Babylonian"  period.  Had  this  not  been  the  case 
the  tradition  would  not  have  survived.     The  com- 


HEBREWS  AND  BABYLONIANS  23 

pilers  of  Genesis,  to  emphasise  the  point  once  more, 
are  not  a  set  of  imaginative  writers  who  spin  out 
romances;  they  merely  record  what  belongs  to  a 
common  stock  of  knowledge,  and  their  originality 
consists  in  the  manner  in  which  they  transform  the 
material.  There  would  not  have  been  any  occasion 
for  carrying  Hebrew  history  back  to  the  Euphrates 
Valley  had  this  tradition  not  been  so  deeply  em- 
bodied in  the  minds  of  the  populace  that  a  history 
of  the  Hebrews,  such  as  the  first  eight  books  of  the 
Bible  in  their  present  form  aim  to  be,  would  have 
been  regarded  as  hopelessly  defective  without  a  no- 
tice of  the  former  settlement  in  the  Euphrates  dis- 
trict of  tribes  from  which  the  Hebrews  reckoned  their 
descent.  We  may  furthermore  conclude,  unless 
we  reject  the  tradition  altogether,  that  the  sojourn, 
whether  at  Ur,  Haran,  or  elsewhere,  was  not  a  short 
one,  not  a  mere  passage  of  nomadic  hordes  on  their 
way  from  Arabia  to  Syria,  for  again  we  must  argue 
that  in  that  case  the  tradition  would  not  have  sur- 
vived with  such  persistency.  There  would  have 
been  no  occasion  for  its  surviving.  A  relatively 
permanent  settlement,  however,  involves  partial  as- 
similation to  the  ways  of  the  country,  and  we  are 
therefore  safe  in  placing  the  Hebrews  among  the 
immigrants  who  drank  deep  of  Babylonian  culture, 
even  though  they  relapsed  into  the  life  of  pastoral 
nomads,  when  with  other  Semites  they  passed  into 
Syria  and  Palestine. 

We    must   distinguish   however   in   our   study   of 
these  traditions,  between  the  traditions  themselves 


24      HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

and  the  period  when  they  assumed  their  final  lit- 
erary shape.     The  stories  in  the  early  chapters  of 
Genesis,  the  account  of  Creation,  the  habitat  of  the 
first  human  pair,  the  early  fortunes  of  the  human 
race,  the  narrative  of  the  Deluge,  the  wanderings  of 
the  Terahites,  their  entrance  into  Palestine,  are  an- 
cient, forming  part  of  a  stock  of  traditions  held  in 
common  by   Babylonians  and  Hebrews  from  time 
immemorial,  just  as  the  stories  of  the  patriarchs,  of 
the  sojourn  in  Egypt,  and  of  the  Exodus  are  old, 
strengthened  by  their  currency  through  a  long  pe- 
riod during  which  they  sank  deep  into  the  minds 
and  hearts  of  the  populace.    The  stories  themselves, 
however,  underwent   modifications  as  the  Hebrews 
passed  from  the  nomadic  to  the  agricultural  stage 
of  life,  and  from  this  again  to  the  founding  of  cities, 
to  the  unfolding  of  more  advanced  forms  of  govern- 
ment, to  the  elaboration  of  an  official  ritual,  and  the 
establishment  of  priesthoods  in  various  centres:  in 
Shiloh,  in  Nob,  in  Bethel,  in  Ramah,  in  Shechem, 
and,  above  all,  in  Jerusalem.     When   these  tradi- 
tions were  submitted  to  the  influence  of  the  new 
ideals  set  up  by  the  Prophets,  their  original  charac- 
ter was  still  further  modified  until  in  the  postexilic 
period  they  assumed  their  present  literary  shape. 
It    is   this    somewhat   complicated    and    composite 
character  of  the  Hebrew  traditions  that  lends  to 
them  their  fascination  for  the  student  whose  task 
it  is  to  trace  the  process  of  growth,  just  as  it  is  that 
because  in  their  final  shape  they  reflect  the  advanced 
Jewish  thought,  they  make   a   religious   and  emo- 


HEBREWS  AND  BABYLONIANS  25 

tional  appeal  to  us  at  the  present  time,  despite  the 
recognition  of  their  historical  evolution.  The  tra- 
ditions in  their  final  form  have  stood  the  test  of 
modern  criticism  which  has  taught  us  to  look  at 
them  in  a  manner  that  enables  them  to  convey  a 
message  even  to  the  modern  mind.1 

IV 

Accepting,  then,  the  position  that  the  Hebrews 
passed  through  a  long  period  of  probation,  involv- 
ing an  evolutionary  process  before  their  religion 
reached  the  stage  reflected  in  the  books  of  the  Old 
Testament  in  their  final  form,  wherein  does  the  pe- 
culiar quality  of  Hebrew  monotheism  lie,  or,  in 
other  words,  what  was  the  course  taken  by  religious 
thought  among  the  Hebrews  that  gives  to  Hebrew 
traditions,  to  Hebrew  conceptions  of  life  after 
death,  to  Hebrew  views  of  sin,  to  Hebrew  institu- 
tions, to  Hebrew  ethics,  to  the  Hebrew  system  of 
divine  government,  a  direction  that  separates  these 
traditions,  conceptions,  views,  institutions,  ethics, 
and  system  from  the  Babylonian  counterparts  with 
which  at  one  time  they  had  so  much  in  common? 

No  elaborate  proof  is  any  longer  required  to  show 
that  at  one  time  the  Hebrews  shared,  to  all  prac- 
tical intent,  the  religion  of  their  surroundings.  As  a 
branch  of  the  Semitic  race,  their  religion  during  their 

1  A  good  illustration  of  the  results  to  be  obtained  from  a  systematic 
study  of  the  process  through  which  the  traditional  lore  of  the  Hebrews 
passed  is  to  be  seen  in  Hugo  Gressmann's  recent  work,  Mose  und  seine 
Zeit  (Gottingen,  191 3). 


26     HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

early  sojourn  in  Palestine  was  that  of  the  Semites 
in  general.  The  pages  of  the  Old  Testament  are 
full  of  indications  that  the  Hebrews,  like  their  fel- 
low Semites,  attached  a  sacred  significance  to  stones 
at  certain  places,  to  trees,  to  wells,  to  mountain 
tops.  The  most  primitive  type  of  the  Semitic  altar 
is  a  stone  in  which  the  deity  is  supposed  to  dwell 
or  which  is  the  deity  himself.  The  "rock  of  the 
dome,,,  as  the  large  stone  within  the  chief  mosque 
at  Jerusalem — the  Haram  esh-Sherif x — is  called,  rep- 
resents one  of  these  ancient  sacred  stones,  the  sanc- 
tity of  which  reaches  back  far  beyond  the  time 
when  the  Hebrews  took  possession  of  Mount  Zion,2 
where  the  deity  manifested  itself  because  it  was  his 
seat,  that  is,  because  he  dwelled  there.  The  He- 
brews took  over  the  sacred  rock  at  the  time  when 
they  dispossessed  the  Jebusites,  who  worshipped  at 
that  place.  Solomon  built  his  temple  there,  because 
the  stone  had  made  it  a  sacred  site.  Palestine  was 
full  of  such  sacred  stones.  The  stone  on  which  Jacob 
slept  at  Bethel  was  a  sacred  object.  Jacob  has  a 
vision  of  the  deity  there,  because  the  stone  is  the 
dwelling-place  of  the  deity.  He  anoints  the  stone, 
regards  it  as  a  masseba  (which  is  the  common  designa- 
tion of  stone  pillars),  because  the  deity  is  in  it  or 
manifests  himself  through  it.  Viewed  in  this  light,  the 
words  which  Jacob  utters  upon  awakening,  "Behold 
Yahweh  is  in  this  place" — the  Hebrew  word  makom 
designates  a  holy  spot — "and  I  knew  it  not"  (Gen. 

1  Commonly,  though  erroneously,  known  as  the  Mosque  of  Omar. 

2  The  name  Moriah  for  the  mount  (II  Chron.  3:1)  represents  a  late 
and  unreliable  tradition. 


HEBREWS  AND  BABYLONIANS  27 

28  :  16),  receive  a  significance  superior,  I  think,  to 
the  traditional  interpretation.  The  oak  or  terebinth 
at  Mamre,  associated  with  Abraham,  is  a  sacred  tree 
— the  dwelling-place  of  a  deity  who,  therefore,  ap- 
pears to  Abraham  at  that  place.  Palestine  is  full 
of  sacred  trees,  regarded  as  such  even  by  the  Arab 
population  of  the  present  day,  who  hang  bits  of 
clothing  and  ornaments  on  such  trees  as  a  symbol 
of  their  attachment.1  Abraham  and  Isaac  are  asso- 
ciated with  Beer-Sheba,  where  there  was  a  well  the 
name  of  which,  "the  well  of  the  oath,"  2  or  (through 
a  play  on  the  word3)  "the  well  of  seven" — seven 
being  a  sacred  number — attests  its  sanctity.  Ka- 
desh,  where  the  Hebrews  remained  for  a  period  be- 
fore entering  Palestine  in  their  wanderings  after  the 
Exodus  from  Egypt,  is  a  sacred  place.  The  name 
"Kadesh"  means  "holy,"  and  the  wells  there,  no 
doubt,  represent  the  reason  for  the  sanctity  of  the 
place.  Palestine  has  many  such  holy  wells.  The 
deity  dwells  in  the  water  as  he  does  in  stones  and 
trees.  Mount  Sinai,  Mount  Nebo,  Mount  Seir,  and 
Mount  Zion — all  represent  dwelling-places  of  the 
deity,  and  the  Hebrews  on  entering  Palestine  ac- 
cepted the  current  views  which  associated  deities 
with  mountain  tops  or  high  eminences.  These  places 
became  sacred  spots  in  Hebrew  history,  because  the 
Hebrews  fell  in  with  the  current  religious  thought 
and  practices  of  their  fellow  Semites.     In  the  tradi- 

1  On  the  present-day  survivals  of  old  Semitic  stone,  tree,  river,  well, 
cults,  etc.,  see  S.  I.  Curtiss,  Primitive  Semitic  Religion  To-day  (Chicago, 
1902),  especially  chapter  VII. 

2  Gen.  21  :  31.  3  Gen.  26  :  33. 


28      HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

tions  associated  with  sacred  stones,  with  trees,  with 
wells,  and  high  eminences,  we  have,  therefore,  the 
survivals  of  Semitic  religion  at  the  nomadic  stage. 
But  the  Semites  advanced  to  settled  life  which  is 
marked  by  the  agricultural  stage.  The  Canaanites, 
who  occupied  Palestine  proper  at  the  time  of  the 
Hebrew  conquest,  represented  an  agricultural  pop- 
ulation who  had  to  be  dispossessed  by  the  con- 
querors. For  the  Canaanites  the  old  Semitic  dei- 
ties became  the  protectors  of  the  soil,  presiding  over 
vegetation.  In  general,  these  protectors  were  viewed 
as  personifications  of  the  sun.  Each  centre  had  such 
a  protector,  who  was  called  "Baal"  or  "lord"  of  the 
place.  When  the  Hebrews  became  agriculturists 
they  adopted  the  "Baals"  of  the  Canaanites;  but, 
associating  Baal  with  their  national  or  tribal  deity, 
Yahweh,  originally  having  his  seat  on  Mount  Sinai, 
or,  according  to  other  traditions,1  on  Mount  Seir, 
the  cult  of  Yahweh  took  on  the  forms  of  Baal  wor- 
ship. The  festivals  of  the  Hebrews  became  agricul- 
tural feasts,  coincident  with  the  seasons  of  impor- 
tance to  tillers  of  the  soil — the  spring,  summer,  and 
the  final  harvest  of  the  fall;  and  there  is  no  longer 
any  doubt  that  these  festivals,  as  described  in  the 
Pentateuchal  Codes  and  in  incidental  references  in 
the  historical  books,  were  taken  over  from  the  Ca- 
naanites. Offerings  of  first-fruits  and  of  the  flock 
were  brought  to  the  sanctuaries  throughout  the  land, 
in  imitation  of  the  example  set  by  the  Canaanites. 

1  E.  g.,  in  the  Song  of  Deborah  (Judges  5  :  4),  where  Yahweh  comes 
from  Seir. 


HEBREWS  AND  BABYLONIANS  29 

Yahweh  becomes  the  "Baal"  or  "lord"  of  the  soil, 
and  the  transfer  of  the  traits  of  a  Baal  to  Yahweh 
was  made  so  naturally  that  down  to  the  days  of 
David  we  find  the  two  terms,  Baal  and  Yahweh, 
used  almost  interchangeably.  The  Canaanitish  Baals 
had  their  altars  and  sanctuaries  on  eminences,  known 
as  bamoth  or  "high  places,"  and  it  was  on  such 
places  that  the  cult  of  Yahweh  was  carried  on  by 
the  Hebrew  agricultural  population.  The  Hebrew 
Prophets  and  the  historical  books  are  our  witnesses 
that  the  Hebrews  adopted  even  the  symbolical  of- 
fering of  their  children  to  Malik — another  designa- 
tion of  Baal,  which  pious  Hebrew  writers  distorted 
to  Molech1 — from  the  Canaanites;  and  it  is  signif- 
icant that  in  the  Priestly  Code  a  provision  is  made 
for  the  redemption  or  ransom  of  the  first-born 
through  the  payment  of  a  certain  sum  (Num. 
13:16).  Such  a  provision  assumes  as  a  recognised 
custom  the  rite  of  devoting  the  first-born  to  the 
deity,  and  the  purpose  of  the  enactment  to  buy 
off  this   sacrifice  which   the  deity  may  claim  is  to 


1  Molech  represents  an  intentional  disguise  for  Malik,  brought  about 
through  the  attachment  of  the  vowels  of  a  word,  bosheth,  meaning 
"shame,"  to  the  consonants  of  Malik,  which  gives  us  Molek.  The  later 
Hebrew  writers  to  whom  the  name  Baal  was  so  obnoxious  as  to  prompt 
them  to  avoid  using  it,  went  so  far  as  to  substitute  Bosheth  for  Baal 
even  in  proper  names,  as,  e.  g.,  Ish-Bosheth  ("man  of  shame")  for 
Ish-Baal  ("man  of  Baal").  On  the  other  hand,  there  was  also  devel- 
oped a  disposition  to  avoid  names  too  sacred  for  ordinary  use.  This 
led  to  giving  to  the  consonants  J  (or  Y)  H  W  H,  which  form  the  sacred 
name  of  Israel's  deity,  the  vowels  of  Adonai  meaning  "lord,"  "  master," 
resulting  in  the  form  Jehovah  in  place  of  Jahweh  or  Yahweh,  which 
was  the  original  pronunciation.  See,  on  the  history  of  this  disguise,  G. 
F.  Moore's  article  in  Old  Testament  and  Semitic  Studies,  in  memory 
of  W.  R.  Harper,  pp.  143-163,  and  the  references  there  given. 


30      HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

abolish  the  older  method  of  symbolically  offering  a 
child  to  Malik  by  "passing  him  through  the  fire,"  1 
itself  probably  a  substitute  of  a  more  merciful  age 
for  a  former  actual  burning  of  the  child.  The  under- 
lying principle  enunciated  in  the  dictum,  "Every 
first  issue  of  the  womb  among  men  and  cattle  be- 
longs to  Yahweh"  (Lev.  13  :  2;  Ex.  34  :  19),  rep- 
resents a  direct  adoption  of  the  Canaanitish  prac- 
tice, and  this  is  further  borne  out  by  the  use  of  the 
very  same  term,  "and  thou  shalt  cause  every  first- 
born to  pass  through  to  Yahweh"  (Ex.  13  :  12), 
which  elsewhere  occurs  in  describing  the  passing 
through"  of  children  to  Malik  (II  Kings  16  :  3 
[Ahaz];  II  Kings  21:  6;  II  Chron.  33:6  [Manasseh]). 
The  redemption  through  money  means  therefore 
the  abolition  of  the  Canaanitish  rite,  but  the  re- 
tention of  the  principle  underlying  the  rite.  In 
order  to  justify  the  principle,  the  explanation  is  of- 
fered (Ex.  13  :  14):  "If  thy  son  should  ask  thee  to- 
morrow, What  is  the  meaning  of  this,  thou  shalt  say 
to  him:  With  a  strong  hand  Yahweh  brought  us  out 
of  Egypt,  out  of  the  house  of  bondage.  And  when 
Pharaoh  hardened  himself  against  sending  us  forth, 
Yahweh  killed  every  first-born  in  Egypt  from  the 
first-born  of  man  to  the  first-born  of  cattle.  There- 
fore I  sacrifice  to  Yahweh  every  first  male  issue  of 
the  womb,  and  every  first-born  of  my  sons  I  redeem." 

xThe  phrase  to  "pass  through  the  fire"  shows  that  the  victim  was 
not  actually  burned,  but  merely  brought  into  contact  with  the  fire  as  the 
sacred  element  and  the  symbol  of  Malik,  the  sun-god.  The  custom  is 
of  the  same  order  as  jumping  across  the  fire  in  connection  with  the  Saint 
John's  festival  of  the  midsummer  solstice.  See  Frazer,  The  Dying  God, 
p.  262,  and  the  footnote  references  there  given. 


HEBREWS  AND  BABYLONIANS  31 

This  is  clearly  an  endeavour  to  find  a  justification 
within  Hebrew  history  for  a  rite  which,  by  evidence 
furnished  through  the  Old  Testament  itself,  is  part 
of  the  general  religion  of  the  Semites  in  Palestine. 
If  any  further  evidence  is  desired  to  show  how  com- 
pletely up  to  a  relatively  late  period  the  Hebrews 
shared  the  religious  practices  of  their  neighbours,  the 
frank  statement  of  the  royal  chronicler  (II  Kings 
21  :  3-8),  about  Manasseh's  course  will  surely  suf- 
fice. "And  he  again  built  high  places  which  his 
father  Hezekiah  had  destroyed  and  he  erected  altars 
to  Baal  and  he  made  an  Asherah1  as  Ahab  the  King 
of  Israel  had  done,  and  he  bowed  down  to  the  host 
of  heaven  and  worshipped  them  .  .  .  and  he  built 
altars  to  all  the  hosts  of  heaven  in  the  two  courts 
of  the  house  of  Yahweh;  and  he  caused  his  son  to 
pass  through  the  fire,  and  he  practiced  divination 
and  magic  and  necromancy  and  he  increased  doing 
evil  in  the  eyes  of  Yahweh  to  provocation  and  he 
set  up  the  Asherah  post  which  he  had  made  in  the 
house  of  which  Yahweh  said  to  David  and  to  Solo- 
mon his  son,  'In  this  house  and  in  Jerusalem  which 
I  choose  of  all  the  tribes  of  Israel  I  shall  place  my 
name  forever."' 

Here  you  have  the  whole  paraphernalia  of  the 
religion  of  the  Semites,  both  that  belonging  to  the 
more  primitive  type  and  to  the  more  advanced  type 

1  A  post  or  pillar  set  up  at  the  side  of  the  altar,  symbolising  the  female 
element  in  nature,  as  the  altar — originally  the  stone  which  was  both  the 
dwelling  of  the  deity  and  the  deity  himself — symbolised  the  male  ele- 
ment. The  post  may  have  originally  been  a  tree.  See  the  article 
"Asherah,"  in  Hastings,  Dictionary  of  the  Bible,  or  in  the  Encyclopedia 
Biblica. 


32      HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

— Baal  worship,  tree  worship,  fire  worship,  astral 
worship,  and  divination  of  all  kinds.  In  the  refer- 
ence to  the  hosts  of  heaven  and  to  divination  prac- 
tices we  may  see  traces  of  that  steady  stream  of 
Babylonian  influences  in  Palestine  to  which  we  have 
referred,  and  which  represents  the  natural  overflow 
of  a  civilisation  constantly  extending  in  scope  and 
power.  This  influence  was  naturally  not  limited  to 
the  Hebrews.  The  astral-theological  system,  ac- 
companied by  recourse  to  the  observation  of  the 
heavens  as  a  means  of  ascertaining  what  the  future 
had  in  store,  led  to  an  attitude  towards  the  moon, 
planets,  and  stars  which  superimposed  an  additional 
layer  over  the  cult  of  Baals  and  Asherahs  through- 
out Palestine.  The  references  to  the  "host  of 
heaven"  increase  as  we  approach  the  period  of  di- 
rect interference  on  the  part  of  the  Assyrian  and 
then  of  the  neo-Babylonian  empire  in  the  affairs  of 
the  Hebrew  kingdoms.  The  pages  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment— particularly  the  Books  of  Kings  and  the  ora- 
tions of  the  pre-exilic  Prophets — are  full  of  references 
to  astrological  practices  and  other  modes  of  divina- 
tion betraying  Babylonian  influence  by  the  side  of 
Canaanitish  customs,  just  as  the  legal  codes  in  their 
protest  against  these  practices  and  customs  betray 
the  extent  to  which  they  were  followed  down  to 
postexilic  days. 

In  the  passage  that  I  have  quoted  we  have,  how- 
ever, also  the  evidence  that  the  turning-point  in  the 
history  of  the  religion  of  the  Hebrews  was  soon  to 
come.     The  reign  of  Manasseh,  which  may  be  dated 


HEBREWS  AND  BABYLONIANS  33 

as  697  to  642  B.  C,  is  portrayed  as  a  period  of  re- 
action from  the  religious  reforms  instituted  by  his 
father,  Hezekiah  (726-698  B.  C),  who  is  a  contem- 
porary of  Isaiah.  The  first  step  demanded  by  the 
Hebrew  Prophets,  of  whom  Isaiah  may  be  regarded 
as  the  type,  was  the  overthrow  of  the  Canaanitish 
or  general  Semitic  practices.  The  protest  voiced 
by  the  Prophets  against  everything  for  which  Ma- 
nasseh  stood  was  historically  justified,  for  the  religion 
practised  by  the  Hebrews  after  their  conquest  of 
Palestine  was  an  adaptation  of  agricultural  cults 
that  they  found  awaiting  them.  They  are  correct 
in  their  assumption  that  the  practices  during  the 
nomadic  period  were  simpler  and  not  overweighted, 
as  were  those  coincident  with  the  agricultural  stage, 
with  an  elaborate  ritual,  marked  by  festival  sea- 
sons, sacrifices  and  purification  rites,  but  the  ear- 
lier practices  of  the  Hebrews  were  likewise  such  as 
were  shared  by  other  Semitic  groups  living  in  the 
nomadic  stage  of  culture.  Yahweh,  as  the  tribal 
deity  of  the  Hebrews,  differed  in  no  essential  par- 
ticular from  other  tribal  deities  of  nomadic  groups; 
and  the  chief  festival  of  this  early  period  was  a 
sheep-shearing  occasion  at  which  a  blood  rite  was 
observed,  resting  on  the  old  Semitic  view  of  blood 
as  a  symbol  of  life.1  The  point  of  departure  in  the 
Hebrew  religion  from  that  of  the  Semitic  in  general 
— in  the  nomadic  stage  and  from  the  later  agricul- 

1  This  festival  with  some  later  modifications  and  with  the  superim- 
posed association  with  the  Exodus  from  Egypt  as  a  justification  for  its 
existence  as  part  of  the  genuine  Yahweh  cult,  led  to  the  Passover  festi- 
val, the  time  of  the  ripening  of  the  first  barley  in  Palestine. 


34      HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

tural  stage — did  not  come  until  the  rise  of  a  body 
of  men  who  set  up  a  new  ideal  of  divine  government 
of  the  universe,  and  with  it  as  a  necessary  corollary 
a  new  standard  of  religious  conduct.  Throwing 
down  the  barriers  of  tribal  limitations  to  the  juris- 
diction of  a  deity,  it  was  the  Hebrew  Prophets  who 
first  prominently  and  emphatically  brought  forth 
the  view  of  a  divine  power  conceived  in  spiritual 
terms,  who,  in  presiding  over  the  universe  and  in 
controlling  the  fates  of  nations  and  individuals,  acts 
from  self-imposed  laws  of  righteousness  tempered 
with  mercy.  To  be  sure,  centuries  before  the  Proph- 
ets, who  began  to  make  their  appearance  in  the 
eighth  century  B.  C,  a  great  leader  had  arisen  who 
gave  to  the  people  a  higher  view  of  Yahweh  than 
that  current  of  tribal  deities  among  surrounding 
nations,  but  the  god  of  Moses  was  still  essentially 
the  god  of  the  Hebrews — in  the  same  sense  that 
Kemosh  was  the  god  of  Moab,  and  Milkom  the  god 
of  Ammon.  Nor  were  the  people,  then  in  the  begin- 
ning of  their  national  life  which  was  ushered  in 
through  the  powerful  personality  of  their  leader  in 
a  position  to  rise  beyond  the  conception  of  a  god 
limited  in  jurisdiction  to  a  group,  and  concerned 
with  that  group  as  a  father  is  for  his  own  children. 
But  Moses — so  much  may  be  concluded  from  a 
study  of  our   sources1 — had   invested    the   national 

JSee  Gressmann's  admirable  and  important  work  (already  referred 
to  above)  Mose  und  seine  Zeit,  showing,  as  a  result  of  a  careful  study 
of  the  various  layers  in  the  traditions  regarding  Moses,  the  line  of  de- 
marcation between  legendary  accretions  and  historical  facts,  and  thence 
the  steps  leading  to  the  idealisation  of  the  great  leader  without  reference 
to  facts. 


HEBREWS  AND  BABYLONIANS  35 

Yahweh  with  certain  ethical  traits  that  differentiated 
him  from  other  tribal  deities  and  which  paved  the 
way  for  the  fuller  and  more  complete  conception  of 
the  Prophets  of  a  power  of  universal  sway,  working 
through  righteousness  and  making  for  righteousness. 
The  Decalogue  in  its  original  form1  may  be  regarded 
as  embodying  Moses'  conception  of  Yahweh  and 
as  furnishing  in  rough  outlines  the  standards  of  life 
and  conduct  set  up  by  him.  The  Yahweh  of  Moses 
is  a  god  who  punishes  wrong-doing  and  who  rewards 
good  deeds.  He  is  not  to  be  worshipped  by  images; 
he  demands  that  children  should  honour  their  parents, 
by  which  is  meant  the  recognition  of  parental  au- 
thority; he  puts  his  protest  on  theft  and  murder; 
he  insists  upon  the  preservation  of  the  purity  of 
family  life,  and  he  goes  even  further  in  condemn- 
ing the  longing  for  the  possessions  of  another  as  a 
crime,  as  almost  equal  to  the  actual  seizure.  Such 
a  sentiment  marks  the  introduction  of  an  ethical 
ideal  superior  to  the  conventional  distinction  be- 
tween right  and  wrong,  dictated  merely  by  prac- 
tical considerations.  The  development  of  this  idea 
of  divine  government,  however,  reaches  a  point  be- 
yond which  it  cannot  go,  if  the  deity  is  to  be  thought 
of  as  bound  by  loyalty  to  a  certain  group  or  to  a 

1  In  the  so-called  Book  of  the  Covenant  (Ex.  21-24)  as  weU  as  m  tne 
Pentateuchal  Codes,  many  of  the  enactments,  at  least  in  their  oldest 
form,  belong  to  the  earliest  period  of  Hebrew  history  and  reflect,  as, 
e.  g.,  in  the  treatment  of  slaves,  the  social  conditions  correlative  with 
the  early  tribal  organisation  such  as  may  have  existed  in  the  days  of 
Moses.  We  may  therefore  justly  attribute  to  him  a  part  of  the  legis- 
lation which  many  centuries  afterwards  in  its  final  shape,  after  passing 
through  a  long  and  complicated  process  of  development,  was  to  pass 
under  his  name.     See  further  in  chapter  V. 


36     HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

certain  place.  The  favouritism  or  special  concern 
for  a  particular  people  is  in  itself  a  limitation  to  the 
ethical  qualities  of  such  a  power.  The  step  of  re- 
moving the  barriers  of  nationalism  in  the  concep- 
tion of  the  divine  was  essential  to  the  production 
of  that  peculiar  type  of  ethical  monotheism  which 
marks  the  distinction  between  the  religion  of  the 
Hebrews  in  its  early  and  tribal  stage,  and  the  later 
religion  which  grows  into  Judaism  in  the  proper 
sense  of  the  term. 

The  two  centuries  preceding  the  fall  of  Jerusalem 
were  critical  ones  in  the  religious  history  of  the 
Hebrews.  They  mark  the  preparation  for  Judaism. 
The  continuation  of  the  process  leads,  during  the 
exilic  period,  to  the  definite  formation  of  Judaism 
as  a  religion  embodying  both  the  spirit  and  the  con- 
tent of  the  messages  of  the  Prophets.  But  this  new 
phase  of  religion  which  meant  a  complete  break 
with  the  normal  course  of  the  religion  of  the  Sem- 
ites did  not,  on  that  account,  involve  a  break  with 
past  traditions.  However  it  may  be  in  modern 
times  and  in  our  Occidental  civilisations,  in  antiq- 
uity and  in  the  Orient  the  past  is  never  entirely 
superseded  by  the  present — it  is  carried  along  by 
the  tide  into  the  present  and  assimilated  to  new  con- 
ditions. Accordingly,  when  the  new  religious  move- 
ment among  the  Hebrews  took  on  a  definite  shape, 
when  the  ideals  of  the  Prophets  as  the  soul  of  the  new 
religion  had  to  be  encased  in  a  body,  the  old  tradi- 
tions that  had  struck  their  roots  deep  into  the  life  and 
hearts  of  the  people  were  taken  up  once  more,  and 


HEBREWS  AND  BABYLONIANS  37 

under  modified  forms  not  only  brought  into  accord 
with  the  new  thought,  but  made  the  medium  for  con- 
veying that  thought.  We  shall  have  occasion  to  see  at 
greater  detail  in  the  next  chapter  that  many  features 
in  the  biblical  account  of  Creation — or  rather  in  the 
two  accounts  that  have  been  combined  in  the  first 
two  chapters  of  Genesis — are  not  at  all  original;  they 
find  their  parallel  in  Babylonian  versions  and,  like 
the  latter,  point  to  the  real  character  of  the  tale  as 
a  nature-myth,  symbolising  the  change  of  season 
from  the  winter  to  the  spring.  In  the  same  way, 
in  the  two  biblical  accounts  of  the  Deluge1  that  have 
been  dovetailed  into  each  other,  the  basis  of  the 
story  is  the  yearly  phenomenon  of  the  rainy  and 
stormy  season  which  lasts  in  Babylonia  for  several 
months  and  during  which  time  whole  districts  in 
the  Euphrates  Valley  are  submerged.  Great  havoc 
was  caused  by  the  rains  and  storms  until  the  per- 
fection of  canal  systems  regulated  the  overflow  of 
the  Euphrates  and  Tigris,  when  what  had  been  a 
curse  was  converted  into  a  blessing  and  brought 
about  that  astonishing  fertility  for  which  Babylonia 
became  famous.     The  Hebrew  story  of  the  Deluge 

1  See,  e.  g.,  Skinner's  Genesis,  pp.  147-150.  Of  the  two  accounts — that 
of  the  Jahwist  and  the  one  embodied  in  the  Priestly  Code — the  former 
Is  the  fuller  and  also  the  one  that  betrays  more  of  the  earlier  features 
which  we  encounter  again  in  the  main  Babylonian  version;  for,  in  Baby- 
lonia, too,  there  were  several  versions.  The  exact  enumeration  of  the 
duration  of  the  Deluge  until  the  earth  reassumed  a  normal  appearance 
and  such  features  as  the  distinction  between  clean  and  unclean  animals 
belong  to  the  priestly  account.  The  Jahwist  uses  seven  (number  of  ani- 
mals and  intervals  between  sending  out  the  raven,  the  dove,  and  the 
second  dove)  and  forty  (duration  of  storm)  as  round  numbers,  but  the 
two  accounts  have  been  so  closely  intertwined  that  only  by  a  close  anal- 
ysis can  the  two  be  separated  from  each  other.     See  the  Appendix. 


38      HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

recalls  a  particularly  destructive  season  that  had 
made  a  profound  impression,  and  the  comparison  with 
the  parallel  story  found  on  clay  tablets  of  Ashur- 
banapal's  library  confirms  this  view  of  the  local 
setting  of  the  tale  that  represents  a  nature-myth 
of  the  same  character  as  the  underlying  stratum 
of  the  Babylonian  and  biblical  Creation  narratives. 
But  in  the  form  assumed  by  the  old  traditions  re- 
garding the  Creation  and  the  Deluge  once  held  in 
common  by  the  Hebrews  and  Babylonians,  the  dis- 
tinguishing mark  of  the  biblical  narratives  lies  in 
the  reduction  of  the  original  mythical  element  to 
a  minimum.  So  thoroughly  has  this  process  been 
carried  out,  that  it  was  only  through  the  discovery 
of  the  parallel  tales  on  cuneiform  tablets  that  the 
original  character  of  the  biblical  Creation  and  Del- 
uge stories  was  revealed.  The  transformation  in 
the  case  of  the  Creation  story  has  been  even  more 
thorough  than  that  of  the  Deluge.  There  remained 
of  the  old  tradition  merely  the  skeleton  outlines — 
the  description  of  primeval  chaos,  a  certain  logical 
order  in  the  process  of  creation,  and  in  the  sec- 
ond biblical  version  a  trace  of  the  conception  of  a 
deity  making  man  as  an  artist  moulds  a  form  out 
of  clay.  The  story,  retained  partly  because  of  its 
popularity,  partly  because  of  that  natural  desire  to 
carry  back  history  to  beginnings,  is  in  all  other  re- 
spects completely  remodelled  and  becomes  a  sub- 
lime poem,  furnishing  in  impressive  diction  the  pic- 
ture of  a  great,  spiritually  conceived  power  creating 
the  universe  by  the  mere  utterance  of  his  intent — 


HEBREWS  AND  BABYLONIANS  39 

God  wills  and  it  comes  to  pass.  That  is  the  pur- 
pose which  in  its  present  form  the  story  was  in- 
tended to  serve.  The  narrative  of  the  order  of  Crea- 
tion becomes  merely  the  illustration  used  in  order 
to  bring  out  this  conception  of  Deity,  due  to  the 
transformation  that  the  view  of  divine  government 
underwent  among  the  Hebrews  through  the  influ- 
ence of  the  Prophets.  The  view  of  a  divine  Creator 
is  the  main  thing,  the  incidents — including  such 
questions  as  the  order  and  the  division  into  six  days — 
are  secondary,  aye,  more  than  this,  merely  incidental. 
The  same  reasoning  may  be  applied  to  the  story 
of  the  Deluge,  the  real  purport  of  which  is  not  to 
recount  an  old  tradition  of  a  destructive  overflow 
that  wiped  out  mankind,  but  to  account  for  the 
special  favour  shown  to  Noah.  He  is  singled  out  to 
be  saved  because  he  is  just.  In  the  Babylonian 
story  Utnapishtim,  or,  as  he  is  called  in  another 
version,  Khasisatra,  and  again  in  a  third  version, 
recently  discovered,  Ziugiddu,  described  as  a  king, 
is  saved,  but  all  that  we  are  told  is  that  he  was  a  fa- 
vourite of  Ea  or  of  some  other  god  who  in  a  dream 
revealed  to  him  the  intention  of  the  gods.  Thus 
warned,  he  saves  himself  and  his  family  and  be- 
longings by  taking  refuge  on  a  ship  that  he  builds. 
Corresponding  to  the  picture  of  a  divine  Creator 
conceived  as  a  spiritual  power  and  not  as  a  mate- 
rialistic manifestation  of  some  phenomenon  of  na- 
ture, we  have  in  the  biblical  accounts  of  the  Deluge 
a  distinctively  ethical  quality  associated  with  that 
Power — who  rules  by  meting  out  justice,  who  pun- 


40     HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

ishes  the  wrong-doers  and  saves  the  righteous.  The 
two  views — the  conception  of  a  supreme  God  ex- 
pressed in  terms  of  spiritual  power  and  the  ethical 
content  of  the  monotheistic  view  of  divine  govern- 
ment of  the  universe — embody  the  main  teachings 
of  the  Prophets.  The  same  spirit  is  to  be  observed 
in  the  biblical  story  of  the  fall  of  man,  which  will 
be  taken  up  in  detail  later  on.1  The  framework  of 
the  tale,  or  rather  of  the  two  interwoven  tales,  is 
primitive  in  character.  The  serpent,  as  the  wisest 
of  the  animals,  talking  and  acting  as  a  human  being; 
a  tree  the  fruit  of  which  results  in  death;  another 
which  is  capable  of  endowing  man  with  eternal  life; 
God  described  as  walking  about  in  the  garden  in 
the  cool  of  the  evening;  the  intimate  converse  be- 
tween God  and  the  first  human  pair — all  are  pictures 
that  belong  to  the  nai'vest  folk-lore  period  of  prim- 
itive culture. 

But  this  biblical  story  is  raised  far  above  the 
level  of  a  primitive  tale,  as  the  nature-myth  under- 
lying the  story  of  the  Deluge  is  removed  into  an 
entirely  different  sphere,  by  their  both  being  made 
the  medium  for  illustrating  the  dire  consequences 
of  disobedience  to  the  dictates  of  a  God  who  de- 
mands adherence  to  His  behests,  that  are  promul- 
gated in  man's  interest.  Such  transformations  of 
old  tales  that  in  themselves  have  no  distinguishing 
Hebrew  features  are  again  due  to  the  totally  trans- 
formed point  of  view  of  God's  relationship  to  man 
brought  about  by  the  teachings  of  the  Prophets. 

1  See  below,  pp.  47  seq. 


HEBREWS  AND  BABYLONIANS  41 

This  may  be  confidently  asserted  despite  the  pes- 
simistic strain  running  through  the  tales  that  looks 
upon  work  as  a  curse  due  to  disobedience  and  that 
declares  man  to  be  hopelessly  inclined  to  evil.1  The 
Prophets  not  infrequently  imply  that  man's  lot  on 
earth  is  full  of  vexations  and  sorrows.  The  minor 
note  is  often  struck  in  the  Psalms  and  in  the  later 
liturgy  of  Judaism,  just  as  a  strong  pessimistic  strain 
may  be  detected  in  mediaeval  Christianity,  which 
was  inclined  to  look  upon  this  sojourn  as  a  vale 
of  tears.  We  need  only  recall  the  dominant  pessi- 
mism in  Buddhistic  doctrines  to  be  convinced  that 
the  sadder  undertone  and  even  an  attitude  border- 
ing on  despair  are  part  and  parcel  of  higher  forms 
of  faith. 


Primitive  tales  are  thus  retained  and  transformed. 
They  are  given  a  new  interpretation  in  the  light  of 
the  teachings  of  the  Prophets  whose  discourses  are 
all  so  many  melodies  based  on  the  one  theme — the 
dire  results  of  disobedience.  Israel's  sin,  by  which 
she  lost  her  national  independence  and  eventually 
became  a  wanderer  on  the  face  of  the  earth — a  Cain 
with  the  mark  of  God  on  his  brow — is  disobedience 
to  the  commands  of  a  Deity  who,  while  the  embodi- 
ment of  right  and  justice  tempered  with  love  and 
mercy,  is  yet  a  God  intolerant  of  deliberate  wrong- 
doing, which  is  inevitably  followed  by  punishment. 
Similarly,  throughout  the  Pentateuch  and  the  histor- 

1  See  below,  pp.  57  seq. 


42      HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

ical  books  proper  the  key-note  is  obedience.  Abra- 
ham, the  type  of  the  perfect  Hebrew,  obeys  the 
commands  of  Elohim  and  is  ready  to  sacrifice  his 
son,  though  no  reason  is  assigned  why  this  demand 
is  made  of  him.  On  the  other  hand,  all  misfortunes 
are  attributed  to  a  single  cause — disobedience  to  the 
commands  of  Yahweh.  The  obedience  must  be 
absolute.  Hence  in  the  significant  twenty-eighth 
chapter  of  Deuteronomy  this  theological  principle  is 
summed  up  in  the  statement  that  all  possible  bless- 
ings will  follow  upon  obedience,  and  all  possible 
curses  be  the  fruit  of  disobedience.  Hebrew  his- 
tory, with  its  ups  and  downs  and  its  final  catas- 
trophe, is  regarded  by  these  biblical  writers  merely 
as  an  illustration  of  this  single  principle.  There  is 
nothing  of  this  stern  and  yet  exalted  point  of  view 
in  the  Babylonian-Assyrian  theology  which  contin- 
ues to  conceive  the  gods  as  strong,  all-powerful, 
but  arbitrary,  protecting  their  favourites  whether 
they  merit  it  or  not,  accessible  to  flattery  and  bribes 
in  the  form  of  homage  and  sacrifices,  who  may  be 
relied  upon  as  aids  if  one  only  carries  out  the 
forms  of  the  ritual,  and  whose  anger,  made  manifest 
by  disaster  in  war,  by  poor  crops,  by  pestilence, 
or  by  other  misfortunes,  is  ascribed  to  neglect  of 
their  cult  or  even  to  such  trivial  causes  as  an  unin- 
tentional error  in  some  ceremonial  detail. 

The  Pentateuchal  Codes,  though  as  full  of  ritual 
as  are  the  incantation  texts  and  the  other  branches 
of  religious  literature  of  Babylonia  and  Assyria,  are 
demarcated  by  this  same  trait  of  stern  ethical  ideal- 


HEBREWS  AND  BABYLONIANS  43 

ism.  The  older  purely  legal  regulations  for  deter- 
mining the  relationships  of  men  to  one  another — 
in  commerce,  in  questions  of  life  and  property,  in 
marriage  and  family  affairs — are  modified  in  the 
long  process  of  development  by  the  test  of  con- 
formity to  the  spirit  of  justice  and  righteousness 
that  finds  its  fullest  expression  in  the  utterances  of 
the  Prophets.  "Holy  shall  ye  be,  for  holy  am  I, 
Yahweh,  your  God,"  is  the  crisp  formula  of  pro- 
phetic doctrines  as  characteristic  of  legalistic  Judaism 
as  is  the  Mohammedan  formula  of  "no  God  but 
Allah,  and  Mohammed  is  his  apostle"  of  Islamism, 
or  as  is  the  trinitarian  formula  of  traditional  Chris- 
tianity. The  aim  of  the  law  is  to  make  the  people 
holy.  It  is  this  point  of  view  that  reconciles  us  in 
a  measure  to  the  detailed  and  rather  wearisome 
sacrificial  and  ceremonial  regulations  of  the  Penta- 
teuchal  Codes — regulations  which  further  amplified 
by  traditional  customs  not  specifically  provided  for 
in  the  codes  and  by  further  deductions  from  the 
codes,  changed  the  Judaism  of  the  Prophets  into  a 
vast  legal  compilation  in  which  the  spirit  was  in 
constant  danger  of  being  stifled  by  the  letter.  There 
is  nothing  particularly  novel  or  particularly  inspir- 
ing in  the  provisions  of  the  Pentateuchal  Codes  for 
the  daily  sacrifices,  for  the  steadily  increasing  ani- 
mal and  cereal  offerings  for  the  festal  occasions, 
or  even  in  the  provisions  for  offerings  in  the  case 
of  sins  unintentionally  committed.  Similar  sacri- 
ficial codes  were  developed  among  many  peoples  by 
a  natural  process,   wherever  the   state   encouraged 


44      HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

the  growth  of  a  temple  administration  extending 
its  scope  and  power  with  the  enlargement  of  the 
state.  The  food  laws  of  the  Priestly  Code  fall 
within  the  category  of  taboos,  such  as  we  encoun- 
ter among  primitive  people  everywhere.  The  reg- 
ulations of  "cleanliness"  and  "uncleanliness,"  for 
the  one  who  has  come  into  contact  with  a  corpse, 
for  the  man  with  an  unclean  "issue,"  for  the  woman 
in  her  monthly  sickness  or  who  is  recovering  from 
childbirth,  contain  just  the  same  minimal  proportion 
of  hygienic  considerations  and  the  same  maximum 
of  taboo  and  demonology  that  hold  good  for  similar 
provisions  in  all  other  religious  systems  of  the  prim- 
itive or  of  the  more  advanced  types.  The  line  of 
demarcation  in  these  sections  of  the  Pentateuchal 
Codes  lies  again  in  the  endeavour  to  make  the  laws 
serve  as  the  expression  of  certain  ethical  ideals. 
These  same  ideals  led  to  humanitarian  regulations 
regarding  criminals  and  captives,  regarding  depend- 
ent classes,  and  even  regarding  the  treatment  of 
trees  and  fields — which  are  a  noteworthy  feature 
more  particularly  of  the  Deuteronomic  Code  (Deut. 
12-26),  though  also  marked  in  the  other  codes.  I 
hold  no  brief  for  the  sacrificial  and  ceremonial  mi- 
nutiae— so  largely  survivals  of  primitive  customs  and 
the  symbolism  natural  to  primitive  views  of  nature 
and  of  the  gods.  They  eventually  proved  an  im- 
pediment to  the  further  unfolding  of  the  teachings 
of  the  Prophets  who  protested  so  strongly  against 
the  dangers  inherent  in  every  ceremonial  system. 
An  impartial  survey,  however,  demands  the  recogni- 


HEBREWS  AND  BABYLONIANS  45 

tion  that  the  Pentateuchal  Codes  breathe  the  genu- 
ine spirit  of  ethical  monotheism  that  distinguishes 
the  Prophets.  The  attempt  is  clearly  made  in  these 
codes  to  conform  ritualistic  practice  to  the  teach- 
ings of  the  Prophets,  just  as  we  have  noted  this 
endeavour  in  the  transformation  and  adaptation  of 
the  early  traditions  regarding  the  creation  of  the 
world,  of  the  disastrous  catastrophe  that  destroyed 
mankind,  or  of  the  traditions  accounting  for  man's 
hard  lot  and  for  the  presence  of  death  in  the  world. 
The  spirit  everywhere  is  the  same.  The  entire  Old 
Testament  is  soaked  with  this  spirit.  The  nation's 
past  is  viewed  and  reviewed  from  the  standpoint 
of  the  ethical  monotheism  of  the  Prophets.  The 
stories  of  the  Patriarchs — partly  tribal  traditions, 
partly  purely  fanciful — are  retold  from  this  point 
of  view.  Episodes  are  selected  and  episodes  even 
invented  that  might  illustrate  the  teachings  of  Juda- 
ism as  set  forth  in  the  writings  of  the  Prophets. 
Abraham,  the  traditional  ancestor,  we  have  seen, 
becomes  the  type  of  the  pious  Jew.  Isaac,  Jacob, 
and  Joseph,  to  whom  a  variety  of  folk-tales  are 
attached — many  of  them  not  specifically  Hebraic, 
others  embodying  dimmed  recollections  of  tribal 
struggles,  of  intrigues  and  hostilities — are  likewise 
types  made  to  conform  in  a  greater  or  less  degree 
to  the  ideals  brought  to  the  highest  point  of  per- 
fection in  Abraham  and  Moses.  The  heroes  of  the 
more  clearly  outlined  historical  periods,  Samson, 
Gideon,  Saul,  Samuel,  David,  and  Solomon,  are 
idealised  from  this  point  of  view,  and   so  naively 


46     HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

idealised  that  their  real  character  crops  out  in  the 
stories  told  of  them  with  such  charm  and  power.1 
The  historical  sources  of  the  northern  and  southern 
kingdoms  are  re-edited  and  rewritten  to  serve  as 
illustrations  of  the  key-note  of  the  teachings  of  the 
Prophets  that  righteousness  exalts  a  people  and 
that  all  the  misfortunes  of  Israel  are  due  to  a  de- 
parture from  these  teachings,  which  are  carried  back 
to  the  beginnings  of  the  national  life  of  the  people 
and  even  beyond  this  to  the  very  beginnings  of  time. 
Moses,  Abraham,  Noah,  and  Abel  are  viewed  as 
personages  who  aimed  to  conform  to  the  law  of  di- 
vine obedience  and  who  derived  their  strength  by 
drinking  of  the  never-failing  well  of  righteousness. 
The  change  brought  about  in  the  religion  of  the 
Hebrews  through  the  new  factor  introduced  by  the 
Prophets  thus  produced  equally  profound  changes 
both  in  the  general  ethical  ideals  and  in  the  religious 
institutions  which  were  transformed  and  interpreted 
in  accord  with  a  faith  centring  around  the  doctrine 
of  ethical  monotheism.  It  is  also  a  direct  result 
of  this  phase  of  monotheism  that  the  views  regard- 
ing life  after  death  underwent  most  striking  changes. 
At  an  earlier  stage,  the  traditions  among  the  He- 
brews regarding  the  fate  of  a  man  after  his  earthly 
career  is  closed  were  hardly  to  be  distinguished,  as 
will  be  pointed  out,  from  what  we  find  among  the 
Babylonians  and  Assyrians,  the  agreement  being 
again  due  in  part  to  early  contact  and  in  part  to 
the  possession  of  common  traditions  carried  along 

1  See  further  in  chapter  V. 


HEBREWS  AND  BABYLONIANS  47 

from  the  most  primitive  phases  of  culture.  Into 
these  traditions  an  ethical  element  having  that  spe- 
cial flavour  which  is  the  unmistakable  indication  of 
the  prophetical  spirit  is  infused,  and  lo!  the  old 
tradition  assumes  a  new  aspect  in  which  merely 
traces  of  earlier  views  remain,  just  enough  to  war- 
rant us  in  predicating  an  evolution  from  the  same 
traditions  to  which  the  Babylonians  and  Assyrians 
clung  with  but  minor  changes  to  the  close  of  their 
long  and  eventful  history. 


VI 

Let  me,  in  conclusion,  give  you  in  more  detailed 
manner  a  particularly  striking  illustration  of  the 
way  in  which  a  tradition  belonging  to  a  primitive 
order  of  thought,  through  the  infusion  of  the  ethical 
element  and  with  a  view  of  adapting  it  to  an  ethical 
conception  of  divine  Providence  in  place  of  a  merely 
physical  view  of  the  government  of  the  universe,  is 
so  radically  transformed  among  the  Hebrews  as  to 
obscure  the  original  identity  with  a  Babylonian 
counterpart. 

Among  the  myths  found  among  the  tablets  of 
Ashurbanapal's  library  was  a  tale  of  a  certain  Adapa1 
who  is  endowed  with  great  wisdom  so  that  he  be- 
comes a  leader  of  men.     Ea,  the  god  of  humanity, 

1  See,  for  the  full  text  so  far  as  preserved,  Ungnad-Gressmann,  Oriental- 
ische  Texte  und  Bilder,  I,  pp.  34-38.  A  fragment  was  also  found  among 
the  tablets  of  the  cuneiform  archive  discovered  in  1887  in  Tell-Amarna 
(Egypt).  Unfortunately,  the  four  fragments  do  not  give  us  the  story 
in  full.  For  the  interpretation,  see  also  Jastrow,  Religion  of  Babylonia 
and  Assyria,  pp.  544-555. 


48      HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

had  lavished  upon  him  all  qualities  except  that  of 
eternal  life. 

"Great  understanding  he1  had  granted  him  to  reveal  the  fate  of 

the  land;2 
Wisdom  he  had  given  him,  but  eternal  life  he  had  not  given 

him." 

In  Eridu,  the  city  of  Ea,  this  "wisest"  of  men, 
who  seems  to  have  been  accounted,  like  Gilgamesh3 
and  other  heroes,  as  belonging  to  a  minor  order  of 
divine  beings,  ruled  supreme,  and,  besides  being  wise, 
he  appears  to  have  been  perfect. 

"Without  blemish,  with  pure  hands,  a  priest  (?)  who  observed 
the  laws  of  the  gods." 

He  is  represented  also  as  a  zealous  provider  for  the 
sanctuary  at  Eridu,  baking  bread,  providing  food 
and  drink  for  the  temple,  and  catching  fish  in  the 
Persian  Gulf — described  as  a  "sea" — on  or  close  to 
which  Eridu  was  situated.  One  day  as  he  was  fish- 
ing "for  the  lord,"  that  is,  for  Ea's  temple,  the 
south  wind  dipped  him  into  the  water,  and  in  re- 
venge Adapa  broke  the  wings  of  the  south  wind, 
so  that  for  seven  days4  no  south  wind  blew.  The 
god  Anu,  the  chief  god  of  heaven,  notices  this,  and 
upon  inquiring  the  reason  of  his  vizier  Ilabrat  is 
told: 
"My  lord!  Adapa  has  broken  the  wings  of  the  south  wind.'* 

1  Ea  is  probably  meant. 

2 1,  e.,  to  divine  the  future,  an  indication  of  great  wisdom  derived 
directly  from  the  gods. 

3  See  below,  p.  85  and  the  Appendix. 

4  Seven  as  a  large  and  round  number. 


HEBREWS  AND  BABYLONIANS  49 

Anu,  enraged,  orders  Ea  to  send  his  favourite  to 
heaven  to  answer  for  his  crime.  Ea  obeys  and  in- 
structs Adapa  how  to  conduct  himself.  He  tells 
him  to  put  on  mourning  garb.  At  the  gate  of  Anu 
he  will  find  two  gods,  Tammuz  and  Gishzida,  who 
will  ask: 

"Why  this  appearance,  Adapa?     For  whom  dost  thou  wear  a 
mourning  garb?" 

Adapa  is  to  reply: 

"Two  gods  have  disappeared  from  our  land,  therefore  do  I  ap- 
pear as  I  am." 

He  will  then  be  asked  who  these  gods  are,  and  is 
to  reply  by  mentioning  the  names  of  Tammuz  and 
Gishzida,  who  will  look  at  one  another  in  amaze- 
ment, and  out  of  pity  for  Adapa  will  then  intercede 
in  his  behalf  with  Anu.  Ea  continues  his  instruc- 
tions as  follows: 

"When  thou  comest  into  the  presence  of  Anu,  they  will  offer 

thee  food  of  death, — do  not  eat  it; 
They  will  offer  thee  water  of  death, — do  not  drink  it; 
They  will  offer  thee  a  dress, — put  it  on; 
They  will  offer  thee  oil, — anoint  thyself  with  it. 
The  advice  that  I  give  thee  do  not  neglect, 
The  word  that  I  tell  thee  observe." 

Everything  happens  as  Ea  had  foretold.  Adapa, 
in  reply  to  Anu's  query  why  he  broke  the  wings  of 
the  south  wind,  tells  him  the  south  wind  tried  to  sink 
him  into  the  water  and  that  his  action  was  in  re- 
venge for  this.     His  plea  is  apparently  self-defence. 


50      HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

Then  Tammuz  and  Gishzida  plead  with  Anu  on 
behalf  of  Adapa  and  the  god's  anger  is  appeased. 
He  is  reconciled  to  Ea's  protection  of  Adapa. 

"He  [i.  e.y  Ea]  has  made  him  strong,  has  given  him  a  name. 
What  can  we  do  in  addition? 
Bring  him  food  of  life  that  he  may  eat." 

Adapa,  remembering  the  counsel  of  Ea,  who  said 
that  food  and  water  of  death  would  be  offered  to 
him,  declines  Anu's  offer: 

"Food  of  life  they  brought  him — he  did  not  eat; 

Water  of  life  they  brought  him — he  did  not  drink; 

A  dress  they  brought  him — he  put  it  on; 

Oil  they  brought  him — he  anointed  himself; 

When  Anu  saw  this  he  was  amazed; 

'Now,  Adapa,  why  didst  thou  not  eat?    Why  didst  thou  not 

drink? 
Now  thou  wilt  not  remain  alive.' " 

Adapa  replies: 

"Ea,  my  lord,  commanded,  'Do  not  eat,  do  not  drink/" 

The  remainder  of  the  narrative  is  badly  pre- 
served and  only  so  much  is  clear:  that  Adapa  is 
sent  back  to  earth,  presumably  to  live  the  life  of 
a  mortal  and  eventually  to  die. 

Owing  to  the  fragmentary  condition  of  the  text, 
the  interpretation  of  the  story  is  encumbered  with 
difficulties.  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  two  in- 
dependent tales  have  been  combined  in  the  narra- 
tive, one  a  nature-myth  symbolising  the  change  of 
seasons,   the  other  a  tale  intended  to  explain  the 


HEBREWS  AND  BABYLONIANS  51 

presence  of  death  in  the  world.  Tammuz  and  Gish- 
zida  are  gods  of  vegetation.1  Their  removal  from 
earth  marks  the  end  of  the  summer  season,  when 
decay  sets  in  and  nature  puts  on  a  mourning  garb. 
The  south  wind  is  the  prevailing  wind  in  tropical 
climes  during  the  summer  and  dry  season.  Its 
ceasing  to  blow  is  therefore  again  indicative  of 
the  summer's  end.  With  these  two  elements  of  a 
nature-myth,  a  story  has  been  combined  which,  like 
many  similar  stories  among  primitive  peoples,  is  in- 
tended to  explain  the  fact  that  men  die.  As  will 
be  pointed  out  in  the  last  chapter,  primitive  man 
can  only  with  difficulty  bring  himself  to  believe 
that  life  should  come  to  an  absolute  standstill.  He 
sees  life  in  nature  constantly  being  revived.  Why 
should  man  not  revive  and  continue  to  live?  We 
owe  to  J.  G.  Frazer2  the  collection  of  a  large  num- 
ber of  stories  among  Australian  tribes  and  elsewhere, 
all  of  which  are  told  to  account  for  the  presence  of 
death  in  the  world;  and  in  many  cases  the  eating 
of  some  food  is  introduced  into  these  tales  as  the 
cause  of  death.  So  among  some  tribes  the  fact  that 
a  remote  ancestor  ate  bananas  instead  of  river- 
crabs3  brought  death  into  the  world.  The  tale  of 
Adapa  evidently  belongs  to  this  order.  The  com- 
bination with  a  nature-myth  is  due  to  a  literary 
process   that   is   a   characteristic   feature   of  Baby- 

1  See  Zimmern's  monograph,  Der  Babylonische  Gott  Tamuz  (Leipzig, 
191 1);  and  Jastrow,  Aspects  of  Belief  and  Practice  in  Babylonia  and 
Assyria,  pp.  343-350. 

2  Belief  in  Immortality,  I,  pp.  59-86. 

3  Frazer,  ib.}  I,  p.  70. 


52      HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

Ionian  literature.1  It  is  not  quite  clear  from  the 
story  of  Adapa  whether  Ea  did  not  wish  his  fa- 
vourite who  becomes  a  type  of  mankind  in  general 
to  have  immortal  life,  knowing  that  Anu  would 
offer  water  and  food  of  life,  or  whether  he  did  not 
anticipate  Anu's  change  of  his  original  intent.  The 
main  thought  is  that  man  forfeited  immortality  by 
his  own  act.  He  had  the  chance  of  eating  of  the  food 
of  life  and  drinking  of  the  water  of  life,  but  failed 
to  avail  himself  of  the  opportunity.  Hence  death 
came  into  the  world,  and  all  mankind  is  doomed 
to  die  because  of  Adapa's  unfortunate  mistake. 

Now  the  Hebrews  must  have  known  of  this  tale. 
Indeed  it  is  not  impossible,  as  Professor  Sayce  was 
the  first  to  suggest,  that  the  name  Adapa,  which 
can  also  be  read  Adawa,  is  identical  with  the  He- 
brew Adam  which  may  have  been  intentionally 
modified  so  as  to  suggest  the  play  upon  the  Hebrew 
word  adama,  "earth,"  out  of  which  according  to  the 
second  version  of  Creation  (Gen.  2  :  5-25),  man  is 
fashioned.  Be  this  as  it  may  be,  a  careful  reading 
of  the  story  of  the  fall  of  man  shows  that  it  has 
been  modified  from  its  original  form  and  entirely 
recast.  The  narrative  in  its  present  form  is  some- 
what confused  owing  to  the  introduction  of  two 
trees,  the  tree  of  knowledge  of  good  and  evil  and 
the  tree  of  life.  The  solution  of  the  problem  is  sug- 
gested by  the  twenty-second  verse  of  chapter  three, 
which  reads  as  follows: 

1  See  further  illustrations  of  this  mode  of  composition  in  Jastrow, 
Religion  of  Babylonia  and  Assyria,  chapter  XXIII. 


HEBREWS  AND  BABYLONIANS  53 

"And  Yahweh  Elohim  said,  Behold  man  is  become  as  one  of 
us,  knowing  good  and  evil;  and  now  lest  he  put  forth  his  hand 
and  take  also  of  the  tree  of  life  and  eat  and  live  forever." 

To  avoid  this  contingency  the  first  pair  are  re- 
moved from  the  garden  and  Cherubim,  represent- 
ing some  inferior  order  of  divine  beings,  are  placed 
to  guard  the  approach  to  the  tree  of  life.1  It  is  evi- 
dent from  this  that  there  was  a  tale  current  among 
the  Hebrews  according  to  which  Yahweh  Himself 
did  not  want  man  to  live  for  ever.  He  is  afraid 
that  man  may  eat  of  the  tree  of  life,  as  Ea  may 
have  been  afraid  that  Adapa  would  eat  of  the  food 
of  life,  and  He  prevents  him  from  doing  so.  That 
is  one  type  of  stories  current  among  primitive 
peoples,  told  to  explain  the  presence  of  death  in 
the  world,  stories  in  which  some  god  or  demon  pur- 
posely prevents  man  from  eating  the  food  that  will 
give  him  everlasting  life.  Now,  the  story  of  Yah- 
weh's  permission  to  man  to  eat  of  all  the  trees  of 
the  garden  with  the  exception  of  the  tree  in  the 
midst  of  the  garden,  interpreted  in  the  recast  form 
as  the  tree  of  knowledge  of  good  and  evil,  assumes 
that  it  was  God's  intention  to  keep  man  perma- 
nently in   the  garden,   there  to  enjoy  life  without 

1  The  picture  is  suggested  by  the  design,  so  frequently  placed  on  seal 
cylinders  and  which  is  also  a  favourite  subject  of  decoration  on  the 
sculptured  walls  of  Assyrian  palaces,  of  winged  beings,  standing  in  front 
of  the  tree  of  life,  and  marked  as  gods  by  the  caps  on  their  heads.  See 
Jastrow,  Aspects  of  Belief  and  Practice  in  Babylonia  and  Assyria,  p.  367, 
and  the  explanation  to  Fig.  2  (PI.  26),  facing  p.  318.  Some  rational- 
istically  inclined  editor,  offended  by  the  reference  to  Cherubim,  sug- 
gested as  a  substitute  "a  flaming  sword  turning  about"  which,  creep- 
ing into  the  text,  brought  about  the  incongruous  picture  of  Cherubim 
with  flaming  swords. 


54      HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

interruption.  Death,  according  to  this  tale,  comes 
into  the  world  because  man  eats  a  fruit  of  some  kind. 
It  will  not  be  considered  too  bold  a  conjecture,  in 
view  of  the  analogy  presented  by  the  story  of  Adapa, 
to  assume  that  this  fruit  must  have  been  the  fruit 
of  death  or  what  amounts  to  the  same  thing  the 
food  of  death.  This  part  of  the  story  then  in  its 
original  form  must  have  contained  a  caution  not  to 
eat  of  some  fruit — as  in  the  Adapa  story — which 
would  entail  death.  This  is  distinctly  implied  in 
the  woman's  speech  to  the  serpent  (Gen.  3:3): 
"But  of  the  fruit  of  the  tree  which  is  in  the  midst 
of  the  garden,  Elohim1  said,  'Ye  shall  not  eat  of  it 
or  touch  it,  lest  ye  die.'"  According  to  this  the 
command  of  Yahweh  in  Gen.  2  :  16-17  must  have 
originally  read: 

"Of  every  tree  of  the  garden  thou  mayest  freely  eat,  but  of  the 
tree  in  the  midst  of  the  garden  thou  shalt  not  eat  nor  touch 
it,  lest  thou  diest." 

This  would  then  form  a  parallel  to  Ea's  order  to 
Adapa  not  to  eat  of  the  food  of  death  nor  to  drink 
of  the  water  of  death.  The  tree  the  fruit  of  which 
is  not  to  be  eaten  must  have  been  the  tree  of  death. 
There  were  thus  two  tales  known  to  the  Hebrews: 
one  of  the  tree  of  life  of  which  God  did  not  want 
man  to  eat,  the  other  of  the  tree  of  death,  the  fruit 
of  which  was  not  to  be  eaten.  We  may  go  a  step 
further.     In  the  case  of  the  second  tale  a  deception 

1  The  fact  that  Elohim  is  used  here  instead  of  Yahweh  Elohim  (orig- 
inally Yahweh  to  which  Elohim  is  attached)  is  also  an  indication  of  a 
different  stratum. 


HEBREWS  AND  BABYLONIANS  55 

is  practised  on  man,  just  as  Adapa  is  deceived. 
Ea  tells  him  not  to  eat,  but  instead  of  the  food  of 
death  and  the  water  of  death,  the  food  of  life  and 
the  water  of  life  are  offered  to  him.  Adapa  obeys 
Ea  and  forfeits  immortality.  In  the  biblical  story 
the  serpent,  intended  as  a  demon  or  evil  spirit, 
tells  the  woman  that  the  tree  is  not  the  tree  of 
death  but  the  tree  of  life.  This  is  implied  in  the 
words  of  the  serpent  (Gen.  3  :  4-5),  "Ye  shall  not 
die  .  .  .  ye  shall  be  like  Elohim,',  1  which  can  only 
mean  that  if  one  eats  of  the  fruit  one  will  live  for 
ever  as  Elohim.  Man  is  deceived  by  some  divine 
being,  though  of  a  lower  order  than  the  gods  and 
thus  loses  the  chance  of  everlasting  life. 

These  two  tales  were  combined,  but  in  addition 
they  were  subjected  to  a  process  of  radical  transfor- 
mation. The  substitution  of  a  tree  of  knowledge  of 
good  and  evil  for  the  tree  of  death  seems  to  be  an 
original  feature  in  the  modified  Hebrew  tradition. 
A  tree  of  life  and  its  counterpart,  a  tree  of  death, 
fall  within  the  category  of  primitive  conceptions; 
not  so,  however,  a  tree  the  fruit  of  which  endows 
one  with  knowledge,  with  mature  judgment,  with 
wisdom.  Such  is  clearly  the  meaning  of  the  phrase 
"knowing  good  and  evil,"  marking  the  change  from 
the  innocence  and  ignorance  of  the  child  to  the  full 
mental  and  physical  vigour  of  the  adult.2    The  writer 

1  Naturally,  the  speech  of  the  serpent  is  not  entirely  preserved  in  its 
original  form;  it  has  been  modified  to  meet  the  requirements  of  the 
transformed  combined  tale. 

2  The  debilitated  old  man,  therefore,  as  the  child,  is  described  as  "with- 
out knowledge  of  good  and  evil";  e.  g.,  II  Sam.  19  :  36,  where  Barzilai 
says:  "I  am  eighty  years  old,  do  I  know  good  from  evil?" 


56     HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

who  introduces  this  tree  is  the  same  philosopher 
who  seeks  to  explain  how  mankind  came  to  be  scat- 
tered on  the  face  of  the  globe  and  why  people  speak 
different  languages,1  how  the  arts  originated,2  how 
cities  came  to  be  built,3  how  people  came  to  wear 
clothes,4  the  reason  for  the  strength  of  the  marriage 
bond.5  The  tree  of  knowledge  of  good  and  evil  is 
therefore  introduced  to  explain  how  man  came  to 
be  endowed  with  wisdom,  to  develop  maturity  of 
intellect,  to  know  how  to  cultivate  the  ground,  to 
provide  for  himself  instead  of  having  everything 
furnished  to  him  as  in  the  Garden  of  Eden.  This 
philosopher  is  also  inclined  to  take  a  rather  gloomy 
view  of  things  in  this  world,  of  the  character  and 
position  of  man;  and  we  shall  have  occasion  to 
see6  that  he  merits  being  called  the  father  of  pessi- 
mism. The  spread  of  people  on  the  globe  is,  from 
his  point  of  view,  a  misfortune  brought  about  as  a 
punishment  for  man's  audacity  in  attempting  to 
build  a  tower  that  should  reach  up  to  the  domain 
of  the  gods.  Similarly,  the  fact  that  people  speak 
different  languages  so  that  one  group  does  not  un- 
derstand the  other  is  regarded  by  our  pessimistic 
philosopher  as  an  evil  inflicted  upon  mankind  so  as 

1  These  two  questions  are  involved  in  the  story  of  the  building  of  the 
city  and  tower,  above,  p.  6. 

2  Gen.  4  :  21-22. 

3  Gen.  4  :  17. 

4  Gen.  3  :  7-8.  The  Hebrew  word  ordinarily  translated  "aprons" 
means  "loin  cloths,"  the  most  primitive  form  of  dress.  Originally,  ac- 
cording to  this  author,  the  coverings  were  made  of  leaves  (Gen.  3:7); 
afterwards  of  skin  (Gen.  3  :  21).  Our  author  thus  shows  his  interest  in 
the  evolution  of  dress. 

6  Gen.  2  :  23-24.  6  Chapter  V. 


HEBREWS  AND  BABYLONIANS  57 

to  prevent  them  from  carrying  out  their  mischievous 
purposes.     Work,  according  to  this  thinker,  is  like- 
wise a  curse,  a  punishment  sent  to  man  because  of 
disobedience  by  which  he  forfeited  a  life  of  ease  and 
comfort  in   the  primeval  habitation.     This   author 
views  human  life  with  open  eyes.     He  sees  how  full 
of  hardships  it  is,  how  people  must  struggle  to  gain 
their  daily  bread,  how  women  suffer  in  giving  birth 
to  offspring,  whereas  the  animals  seem  to  throw  off 
their  young  without  difficulty,  and  he  concludes  that 
the  fate  of  man  is  imposed  upon  him  as  a  consequence 
of  his  evil  ways.     Nor  has  he  much  hope  of  the 
future,  for  it  is  the  same  philosopher  who  makes 
Yahweh  repent  of  having  created  man.1    The  Deluge 
is  brought  on  because  of  man's  wickedness;    but, 
though  the  world  was  peopled  anew  of  the  seed  of 
Noah,  as  offspring  of  the  man  who  was  ''righteous 
and  perfect  in  his  generation"  (Gen.  6  :  9),  corrup- 
tion again  enters  the  world.     Yahweh  resolves  never 
to  bring  on  another  Deluge,  but  merely  because  he 
recognises  that  it  is  not  worth  while  to  try  to  re- 
form mankind,  "because  the  inclination  of  the  mind2 
of  man  is  evil  from  his  youth  on."     Man  is  a  hope- 
less sinner.     Knowledge,  too,  is  regarded  as  an  evil. 
Man  in  a  state  of  ignorance  was  innocent  and  happy, 
dwelling  in  a  Paradise  and  having  everything  that 
his  heart  could  desire  without  any  effort  on  his  part; 
but  with  knowledge,  with  maturity  of  intellect  and 
physical  vigour,  came  also  the  necessity  to  work  and 

1  Gen.  6  :  6. 

2 The  Hebrew  uses  "heart,"  but  as  the  seat  of  the  intellect. 


58      HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

struggle.  The  philosopher  sees  how  the  strength  of 
man  leads  him  to  tyrannise  over  a  weaker  brother, 
how  knowledge  and  skill  are  turned  to  evil  purposes, 
and  how  the  struggle  for  life  leads  to  incessant  hos- 
tility. The  greatest  evil  of  all,  however,  to  his 
mind,  seems  to  be  woman.  He  is  a  misogynist,  if 
ever  there  was  one,  for  he  traces  back  to  woman 
the  original  act  of  disobedience  which  entails  all 
the  misfortunes  and  miseries  of  human  existence. 
Woman  is  weak,  weaker,  at  all  events,  than  man. 
Therefore  the  demon  succeeds  without  difficulty  in 
deceiving  her.  Adam  becomes  the  innocent  victim 
of  her  wiles.1  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  epi- 
sode in  introducing  a  woman  in  the  story  intended 
to  explain  the  presence  of  death  in  the  world  is 
conceived  from  this  point  of  view,  to  prove  that 
woman  is  responsible  for  man's  forfeiture  of  ever- 
lasting life.  We  have  already  had  occasion  to  touch 
upon  this  austere  attitude  towards  life2  which  mani- 
fests itself  in  other  ways  in  the  pages  of  the  Old 
Testament,  and  we  shall  come  back  to  it  in  the 
last  chapter.  Here  it  is  sufficient  to  have  furnished 
the  proof  that  the  change  from  the  tree  of  death 
to  the  tree  of  knowledge  of  good  and  evil  is  made 
with  a  view  of  accounting  for  man's  hard  fate,  end- 
ing after  a  constant  struggle3  in  death.  "Dust 
thou  art  and  unto  dust  shalt  thou  return. "  4     The 

1  "Because  thou  didst  hearken  to  the  voice  of  thy  wife"  (Gen.  3  :  17) 
— can  misogyny  go  further? 

2  Above,  pp.  41  seq. 

3  "In  pain  thou  wilt  eat  bread  all  the  days  of  thy  life"  (Gen.  3  :  17). 

4  Gen.  3  :  19. 


HEBREWS  AND  BABYLONIANS  59 

whole  character  of  the  primitive  tradition  is  changed 
by  this  procedure,  and  only  enough  remains  of  the 
original  tale  to  justify  us  in  carrying  back  the  He- 
brew story  of  Adam's  forfeiture  of  eternal  life  to 
the  same  source  that  produced  the  tale  of  Adapa 
— a  story  which,  as  we  have  seen,  is  quite  independ- 
ent of  the  nature-myth  with  which  it  has  been  com- 
bined. This  combination  of  a  Babylonian  folk-tale 
with  a  nature-myth  is  as  characteristic  of  the  Baby- 
lonian mind  as  is  the  transformation  of  the  Hebrew 
tradition  into  a  tale  with  an  ethical  substratum  for 
the  development  through  which  Hebrew  thought 
passed.  The  story  of  a  Deity  trying  to  prevent  man 
from  eating  of  the  tree  of  life  was  incompatible  with 
the  later  point  of  view,  which  we  have  endeavoured 
to  outline  in  this  chapter  and  which  we  will  have 
occasion  to  amplify  in  the  succeeding  chapters.  A 
God  who  is  pictured  as  a  spiritual  force,  who  is 
above  all  else  holy,  who  is  enthroned  in  justice  and 
righteousness,  free  from  all  caprice,  cannot  possibly 
be  supposed  to  be  afraid  of  man,  just  as  little  as 
He  can  be  conceived  to  be  actuated  by  any  hostil- 
ity towards  man.  This  tale  therefore  is  instinc- 
tively set  aside  and  there  merely  remains  of  it  the 
faint  trace  in  the  verse  to  which  attention  has  been 
called,1  so  disguised  moreover  as  to  be  almost  un- 
recognisable as  the  torso  of  the  primitive  tale.  The 
other  tale,  about  the  tree  of  death — the  tree  in  the 
midst  of  the  garden — was  also  too  bald  in  its  original 
form  to  be  incorporated  in  a  collection  of  traditions 
1  Above,  p.  53. 


60     HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

that  were  to  be  made  the  medium  of  illustrating 
the  divine  government  of  the  universe  by  a  power 
whose  majesty  reaches  its  climax  in  the  picture  of 
a  Creator  bringing  the  world  into  being  by  His  mere 
command — His  'Word/ 

The  vitality  of  the  primitive  tradition  was,  how- 
ever, strong  enough  to  preserve  some  of  its  features, 
such  as  the  deception  practised  upon  man,  the  eat- 
ing of  a  fruit  as  the  explanation  of  death  and  the 
serpent  as  a  symbol  of  an  evil  demon;  but  the  main 
stress  is  laid  in  the  spirit  of  the  Prophets  upon 
disobedience  to  the  divine  behest.  The  story,  one 
cannot  help  feeling,  would  have  been  more  impres- 
sive had  the  sin  of  disobedience  been  portrayed  in 
a  more  direct  manner.  Adam,  as  the  type  of  man, 
should  have  been  held  up  as  the  real  sinner.  The 
introduction  of  the  woman  as  a  medium  between  the 
serpent  and  the  man  carries  the  pessimism  too  far; 
it  gives  to  the  author's  view  of  human  existence 
an  almost  forbidding  character,  but  nevertheless 
the  main  thought  that  disobedience  is  responsi- 
ble for  all  the  evils  of  the  world  stands  out  promi- 
nently in  the  narrative  in  its  present  form.  Through 
this  element  the  primitive  tale  is  lifted  up  into  a 
higher  region.  Even  its  original  character  as  fur- 
nishing an  explanation  of  death  becomes  secondary, 
and  the  story  acquires  the  force  of  an  impressive 
parable  to  illustrate  the  fundamental  principle  of 
the  higher  religion  that  brought  about  the  wide  de- 
parture of  so  many  other  Hebrew  traditions  from 
their  Babylonian  counterparts — the  principle  of  obe- 


HEBREWS  AND  BABYLONIANS  61 

dience  to  the  will  of  a  Power  of  universal  scope, 
who  guides  mankind  in  love  and  mercy.  Looked 
at  in  this  light,  we  can  overlook  the  trace  of  primi- 
tive conceptions  involved  in  picturing  a  serpent  as 
a  demon,  a  notion  that  is  so  prominent  in  primitive 
beliefs.1  Viewed  as  a  parable,  we  are  reconciled 
even  to  the  pessimistic  strain  running  through  the 
tale  and  which  represents  merely  the  extreme  of 
the  ethical  aspect  of  life  as  revealed  in  the  Prophets, 
who  look  upon  life  as  a  serious  responsibility  and 
who,  while  recognising  the  sinful  nature  of  man, 
hold  out  the  hope  of  salvation  by  an  uncompro- 
mising attachment  to  high  ideals  of  conduct.  Taken 
by  itself,  the  transformation  of  a  naive  tradition 
born  of  primitive  beliefs  into  a  parable  of  deep 
ethical  import  and  of  spiritual  power,  is  thus  a  wit- 
ness to  the  change  in  the  attitude  towards  life.  If 
this  testimony  can  be  confirmed  by  being  shown  to 
be  in  harmony  also  with  the  treatment  accorded  to 
other  traditions  which  the  Hebrews  once  held  in 
common  with  the  Babylonians,  we  shall  have  estab- 
lished the  thesis  here  maintained:  that  Hebrew  and 
Babylonian  traditions — using  tradition  in  the  larger 
sense,  as  embracing  views  and  beliefs  handed  down 
as  precious  heirlooms  from  one  generation  to  the 

1  On  this  view  of  the  serpent  and  the  reasons  for  the  belief  which  sees 
a  demon  in  a  serpent,  see  Jastrow,  Religion  Babyloniens  und  Assyriens, 
II,  pp.  775  seq.  It  is  not  impossible  that  the  suggestion  for  the  combina- 
tion of  man,  woman,  and  serpent  may  have  come  from  Babylonia.  See 
the  seal  cylinder  in  Ward,  Seal  Cylinders  of  Western  Asia,  Fig.  388,  por- 
traying a  man  and  woman  (who  appear  to  be  gods)  seated  on  either 
side  of  a  tree — the  tree  of  life — and  a  serpent  in  the  background.  To 
discuss  the  point  involved,  however,  would  carry  us  too  far. 


62      HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

other — tend  to  diverge  until  finally,  through  the 
totally  different  direction  taken  by  religious  thought 
and  ethical  ideals  among  the  Hebrews,  we  find  these 
traditions  so  altered  and  recast  as  to  show  merely, 
through  incidental  "survivals,"  the  path  that  leads 
us  to  Babylonia  and  Assyria  as  the  centre  from 
which  they  started  out. 

The  main  problem,  then,  involved  in  a  study  of 
Hebrew  and  Babylonian  traditions,  is  to  take  note 
of  the  differences  by  the  side  of  points  of  contact 
and  to  account  for  them.  It  is  through  these  dif- 
ferences that  the  specific  quality  of  the  Hebrew  civ- 
ilisation as  distinguished  from  the  Babylonian-As- 
syrian is  revealed.  The  resemblances  are  of  value 
chiefly  in  pointing  to  a  common  ethnic  stock  to 
which  both  Babylonians  and  Assyrians  and  Hebrews 
belong — though  it  must  always  be  borne  in  mind 
that  Babylonians  and  Assyrians  represent  a  mix- 
ture of  non-Semitic  elements  with  Semites,  and  that 
the  Hebrews  are  far  from  being  a  pure,  unmixed 
Semitic  race.1 

Naturally,  in  a  limited  course  the  subject  cannot 
be  treated  exhaustively.  A  selection  must  be  made 
from  the  many  phases  that  it  presents,  and  only  a 
number  of  the  problems  involved  can  be  set  forth. 
I  choose  therefore  as  illustrations  of  my  main  the- 
sis such  fundamental  aspects  as  the  study  of  the 
Hebrew  and  Babylonian  views  of  Creation,  the  He- 

1  Ezekiel  in  a  notable  passage  (16  :  3)  reminds  his  people  that  "thy 
father  was  an  Amorite,  and  thy  mother  a  Hittite,"  an  interesting  refer- 
ence to  the  mixed  character  of  the  Hebrews.     See  p.  15,  note  1. 


HEBREWS  AND  BABYLONIANS  63 

brew  and  Babylonian  views  of  the  Sabbath,  the 
Hebrew  and  Babylonian  views  of  life  after  death, 
and  Hebrew  and  Babylonian  ethics.1  Through  a 
consideration  of  these  aspects  we  shall,  I  venture  to 
hope,  obtain  a  firm  grasp  of  the  important  and  fas- 
cinating subject.  The  general  plan  will  be  in  the 
case  of  each  of  these  subjects,  first  to  set  forth  the 
Babylonian  traditions  and  points  of  view,  follow- 
ing their  development  so  far  as  our  material  per- 
mits us  to  do  so,  and  then  to  set  forth  the  course 
of  development  taken  by  the  corresponding  Hebrew 
traditions  and  points  of  view.  In  the  course  of  the 
treatment  the  points  of  resemblance  will  suggest 
themselves  to  you  without  much  effort  on  my  part, 
while  it  will  be  my  chief  task  to  endeavour  to  inter- 
pret the  real  and  deeper  significance  of  the  points 
of  difference.  The  method  to  be  followed  in  the 
discussion  will  be  the  historical  one,  by  which  I 
mean  that  as  a  student  of  ancient  civilisations  I 
am  actuated  by  no  other  motive  than  the  desire 
to  set  forth  the  facts  as  I  see  them — frankly,  with- 
out bias  or  prejudice — but,  I  trust,  with  sympathy 
for  the  impressive  struggle  of  mankind  in  its  at- 
tempt to  penetrate  the  mystery  by  which  it  ever 
finds  itself  surrounded,  and  to  attain  to  that  modi- 
cum of  truth  which  it  is  within  the  power  of  the 
finite  mind  to  grasp.  The  great  lesson  to  be  de- 
rived from  the  historical  study  of  religions — and 
this  applies  to  the  whole  field  as  to  every  part  of 
it — is  that  the  goal  of  mankind  is  truth,  even  though 

1  In  an  appendix  also  Hebrew  and  Babylonian  accounts  of  a  Deluge. 


64     HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

it  be  that  the  search  for  truth  will  never  end  so  long 
as  man  survives;  for  truth  is  infinite,  even  as  the 
source  of  truth  is  infinite — aye,  is  the  Infinite  Him- 
self. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  ACCOUNTS  OF 
CREATION 


The  desire  to  trace  things  to  their  origin  is 
so  strong  in  man  as  to  suggest  the  possibility  of 
its  being  a  deeply  ingrained  instinct.  From  the 
child's  curiosity  to  see  the  wheels  go  round  to  the 
question,  "what  makes  them  go  round?"  is  merely 
a  step,  and  from  this,  again,  to  "who  makes  the 
wheels  ?"  another  step,  and  not  a  very  large  one. 
Curiosity  is,  indeed,  the  beginning  of  wisdom,  and 
the  most  modern  and  most  advanced  scientific  spirit 
is  merely  curiosity,  plus  the  application  of  a  proper 
method  to  satisfy  it.  Creation  stories  abound  every- 
where among  people  in  a  primitive  state  of  culture, 
the  stage  of  nai've  curiosity,  and  from  this  stage 
they  are  carried  over  to  the  higher  level,  the  stage 
of  methodical  inquiry,  modified  somewhat  and  trans- 
formed to  adapt  them  to  higher  points  of  view  but 
in  all  essentials  they  are  still  the  old  stories,  handed 
down  from  generation  to  generation  by  word  of 
mouth  until  through  the  rise  of  the  literary  spirit 
they  are  given  a  definite  form.  The  characters  in 
these  early  endeavours  to  picture  the  universe  com- 

65 


66      HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

ing  into  being  are  naturally  the  gods,  and  as  the 
religious  life,  keeping  pace  with  the  social  status 
and  the  political  turmoils,  becomes  more  definitely 
regulated,  the  gods  assume  a  definite  relationship 
to  one  another  with  variations  in  rank  correspond- 
ing to  those  which  hold  good  for  human  society. 
Instead  of  an  indefinite  series  of  powers,  represent- 
ing the  personification  of  the  many  forces  mani- 
festing themselves  in  nature  and  that  condition 
man's  welfare,  we  have  a  selection,  and  the  powers 
so  selected  form  a  pantheon  which  becomes  more 
or  less  systematically  organised.  At  this  stage 
Creation  stories — one  may  say  everywhere,  for  the 
exceptions  if  such  there  be  are  negligible — assume 
the  character  of  a  nature-myth,  that  is  to  say,  a 
story  of  some  occurrence  in  nature  in  which  gods 
as  actors  personify  the  occurrence  itself.  The  par- 
ticular myth  chosen  will  depend  largely  upon  cli- 
matic conditions.  In  tropical  districts,  suitable  for 
man  in  the  early  stages  of  culture,  the  two  seasons 
of  the  year,  the  rainy  and  the  dry,  generally  sug- 
gest by  analogy  the  change  from  the  rainy  to  the 
dry  season  as  the  beginning  of  the  universe,  or  at 
all  events,  as  the  condition  for  the  appearance  of 
life  in  nature,  of  regularity  and  order  as  contrasted 
with  the  violence  of  storms  and  the  destruction 
wrought  during  the  rainy  season,  when  forces  of  dis- 
order seem  to  be  in  unbridled  control.  Such  is  the 
case  with  the  various  versions  of  Babylonian  Crea- 
tion myths  that  have  been  preserved,  wholly  or  in 
part,  but  which  appears  most  clearly  in  what  may 


ACCOUNTS  OF  CREATION  67 

be  designated  as  the  main  version.  This  is  the 
story  of  a  contest  between  the  forces  of  evil  and 
lawlessness,  symbolising  the  wintry  and  rainy  sea- 
son, and  the  opponents  of  these  forces  endeavouring 
to  establish  law  and  order. 

We  can  now  say  with  certainty  that  in  each  one 
of  the  great  religious  centres  of  Babylonia  sub- 
stantially the  same  story  was  told,  with  merely  a 
different  arrangement  of  the  actors  on  the  stage. 
The  hero  who  triumphs  in  the  contest  with  violent 
forces  is  in  each  case  the  chief  deity  of  a  particular 
centre.  So  in  Nippur,  which  early  acquired  a  sacred 
position,  it  is  Enlil,  the  patron  of  the  city,  who  is 
represented  as  quelling  a  general  uprising  of  the 
powers  of  nature.  At  Eridu,  situated  on  or  near 
the  Persian  Gulf,  it  is  a  water  deity,  Ea.  At  Uruk 
it  is  a  solar  deity,  Anu;  and,  no  doubt,  at  Sippar,  the 
chief  city  of  the  worship  of  Shamash  (the  general 
designation  of  the  sun),  it  was  the  sun-god  who  was 
pictured  as  the  conqueror.  But  these  originally 
distinct  and  early  phases  all  gave  way  in  time  to 
the  claims  of  the  god  of  the  city  of  Babylon,  Mar- 
duk,  who,  with  the  rise  of  Babylon  as  the  political 
capital  of  the  entire  Euphratean  Valley,  definitely 
assumes  the  headship  of  the  pantheon.  In  its  final 
and  most  elaborate  form  the  Babylonian  Creation 
story  thus  becomes  a  paean  in  praise  of  the  power 
of  Marduk,  who,  endowed  with  the  attributes  of 
all  the  other  gods  and  thus  surpassing  any  one  of 
them  in  strength  and  glory,  is  represented  as  accom- 
plishing a  task  in  which  others  fail,  or  from  which 


68      HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

they  shrink.  The  local  variations  of  the  nature- 
myth  are  combined,  but  instead  of  any  of  the  local 
gods,  whether  sun-deities  or  water-gods  or  storm- 
gods,  succeeding  in  establishing  order  and  in  creat- 
ing the  universe,  they  are  represented  in  this  final 
version  as  having  been  foiled  in  the  attempt  and 
as  proclaiming  Marduk  to  be  the  only  one  who  can 
overcome  the  chaotic  condition  produced  through 
the  rainy  and  stormy  season.  This  condition  was  at 
an  early  date  symbolised  as  the  rule  of  a  huge  mon- 
ster, with  an  army  of  minor  but  yet  formidable 
monsters  at  her  command. 

II 

Let  us  take  up  this  story,  which  is  known  to  us 
chiefly  from  fragments  of  clay  tablets  in  the  library 
of  Ashurbanapal,  King  of  Assyria  (668-626  B.  C), 
though  we  also  have  some  portions  of  it  in  neo- 
Babylonian  tablets  from  some  of  the  temples  in 
the  south,  such  as  Babylon,  Borsippa,  and  Sippar.1 
In  addition  to  these  we  have  much-distorted  ac- 
counts in  Greek  writers,  who  quote  as  their  source 
Berosus,  a  Chaldean  priest  who  flourished  in  Baby- 
lonia towards  the  end  of  the  fourth  century,  and 
who  wrote  a  history  of  Babylonia  and  Assyria  which 
is  unfortunately  lost.  The  story,  which  is  poetic 
in  form,  begins  as  follows: 

"When  above,  the  heavens  were  not  named, 
Below,  the  terra  firma  was  not  called  a  name.  . 

1  See  the  complete  publication  of  all  the  material,  with  a  translation 
and  commentary  by  L.  W.  King,  The  Seven  Tablets  of  Creation  (Lon- 
don, 1902.     2  vols.). 


ACCOUNTS  OF  CREATION  69 

Apsu,  first  of  their  seed, 

Mummu  (and)  Tiamat,  producer  of  all  of  them, 

Their  waters  were  joined  together, 

Soil  had  not  yet  been  marked  off,  shoot  had  not  yet  sprung  up. 

There  was  a  time  when  none  of  the  gods  had  as  yet  burst  forth, 

Not  been  called  a  name,  fates  had  not  been  fixed; 

Then  were  created  the  [twelve  gods], 

Lakhmu  and  Lakhamu  burst  forth. 

Ages  increased. 

Anshar  and  Kishar  were  created  and  over  them  .  .  . 

Days  grew  long — there  came  forth  .  .  . 

Anu,  their  son  .  .  . 

Anshar,  (?)  Anu  .  .  . 

Nudimmud  whom  his  father  [had  begotten], 

Abounding  in  wisdom,  .  .  . 

Exceedingly  strong,  .  .  . 

Without  a  rival,  .  .  . 

Thus  were  established  [the  great  gods]." 

The  attempt  is  evidently  made  here  to  set  up  a 
genealogy  of  the  gods  and  we  are  fortunately  in  a 
position  to  supplement  this  enumeration  through 
lists  that  have  come  down  to  us  in  the  library  of 
Ashurbanapal,1  of  powers  or  deities  that  are  desig- 
nated as  the  twenty-one  male  and  female  offspring 
of  a  divine  progenitor  symbolised  as  the  heaven  or 
the  god  of  Heaven.  To  be  sure,  such  lists  repre- 
sent the  purely  theoretical  speculations  of  later 
priests  or  theologians,  but  they  are  nevertheless 
valuable  as  embodying  traditions  of  ages  when  other 
gods  than  those  which  formed  the  object  of  wor- 
ship in  later  times  existed.  In  only  a  few  cases  do 
we  know  the  nature  of  these  early  deities,  but  we 

1  Published  in  Cuneiform  Texts  from  Babylonian  Tablets,  etc.,  in  the 
British  Museum,  Parts  XXIV-V. 


70     HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

are  reminded  in  a  general  way  of  the  similar  geneal- 
ogies found  in  Hesiod's  Theogony,  giving  us  several 
successive  generations  of  deities  who  presided  over 
the  Olympian  pantheon.  First  in  order  are:  Gaia 
(Earth),  and  Uranos  (Heaven),  who  produce  the 
Titans,  the  youngest  of  whom,  Kronos,  establishes 
a  new  rule  which  in  time  is  replaced  by  that  of 
Zeus,  though  not  before  many  other  series  of  gods 
are  brought  forth  through  Kronos  and  Rhea.  The 
analogy  between  Hesiod's  Theogony  and  that  de- 
vised by  Babylonian  theologians  can  be  carried 
further,  for  in  both  cases  the  ultimate  source  to 
which  the  powers — or,  what  amounts  to  the  same 
thing,  the  generations  of  gods — are  traced  back  is 
the  heaven,  the  Uranos  of  Hesiod  corresponding  to 
Anu  in  the  Babylonian  list.  In  Hesiod's  Theogony 
Kronos  and  Rhea,  just  as  Zeus  and  Hera,  represent 
a  divine  pair.  The  male  element  in  both  instances 
is  again  identical  with  the  heavens,  precisely  as  is 
Uranos,  the  earliest  progenitor  of  divine  beings, 
while  Rhea  and  Hera  as  the  female  elements  are 
types  of  Gaia  (the  Earth),  but  become  in  both  the 
Babylonian  and  the  Greek  systems  merely  consorts 
of  the  god  of  Heaven.  The  Babylonian  lists  of 
divine  pairs  thus  bring  out  the  same  thought  as 
found  among  the  Greeks,  only  in  a  more  definite 
and  clearer  form.  An  (the  sign  for  Heaven)  and  Ki 
(Earth)  are  identified  in  these  lists  with  Anum  and 
Antum,  the  divine  pair,  the  god  of  Heaven  and 
his  consort.  In  the  same  way  the  other  pairs  in 
these  lists,  like  lb  and  Ninib,  An-shar-gal  and  Ki- 


ACCOUNTS  OF  CREATION  71 

shar-gal  {i.  <?.,  "the  great  universe  of  what  is  above" 
and  "the  great  universe  of  what  is  below"),  An- 
shar  and  Ki-shar,  Du-ur  and  Da-ur,  Lakhmu  and 
Lakhamu,  Alala  and  Belili,  En-ur-ul-la  and  Nin-ur- 
ul-la,  are  merely  so  many  designations  of  the  same 
divine  pair  symbolised  by  the  heaven  as  the  male 
element,  while  the  female  element,  originally  the 
earth  or  that  which  is  below,  fades  into  a  mere  re- 
flection of  the  male  element  and  becomes  the  fe- 
male companion  of  the  god  of  Heaven.  Hence 
the  interchange  in  these  names  between  the  use  of 
the  element  Ki,  which  means  the  earth,  and  Nin, 
which  signifies  the  female  element  without  further 
qualification.1  The  later  stratum  of  thought  is  also 
shown  by  the  divine  pair  to  which  these  groups  are 
traced  back  and  which  are  no  longer  heaven  and 
earth,  but  heaven  and  his  heavenly  consort,  Anum 
and  Antum,  both  being  actually  designated  by  the 
same  sign — a  star,  as  a  symbol  of  the  heavenly 
expanse. 

All  this  points  to  the  tendency  both  among  the 
Greeks  and  Babylonians  to  give  to  the  pantheon 
an  astral  character;  in  other  words,  to  project  the 
gods,  quite  independently  of  their  original  char- 
acter, on  to  the  heavens.  We  shall  have  occasion 
to  refer  to  this  later  on.2  I  mention  it  here  as  an 
illustration  of  the  frankly  materialistic  aspect  of 
the  Babylonian  theology.  This  limitation  in  the 
conception   of  the  divine  involved   the   association 

1  The  later  male  element  corresponding  to  Nin  is  En. 

2  See  chapter  III. 


72     HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

of  the  manifestation  of  the  divine  with  some  sub- 
stantial, visible  object.  "The  heavens  proclaim 
the  glory  of  God,"  says  the  Psalmist,1  in  a  sublime 
burst  of  admiration  at  the  beauty  of  the  stars;  for 
the  Babylonian  the  heavens  proclaimed  the  gods 
— were  gods.  Between  the  two  conceptions  lies  the 
difference  between  a  spiritualistic  and  a  material- 
istic faith,  a  view  of  divine  government  expressed 
in  poetical  metaphors  as  a  means  of  conveying  ideas 
for  which  ordinary  language  does  not  suffice,  as 
against  the  literal  interpretation  of  the  metaphor. 
This  materialistic  aspect  is  the  characteristic  key- 
note of  all  the  Babylonian  Creation  stories,  and  this 
despite  certain  impressive  features,  particularly  in 
the  Marduk  epic,  which  we  must  not  overlook.  Let 
us  proceed  with  the  account. 

The  Theogony  of  Hesiod  assumes  at  the  begin- 
ning of  things,  Chaos,  apparently  conceived  as  an 
immeasurable  empty  space;  then  comes  the  triad 
Earth  (Gaia),  the  Depth  (Tartaros),  and  Love 
(Eros).  Out  of  Chaos  come  Erebos  and  Night, 
and  from  these,  the  Atmosphere  (Ether)  and  Day 
(Hemera).  The  process  of  creation  was  thus  evolu- 
tion from  darkness  to  light.  This  triad — Gaia, 
Tartaros  and  Eros — has  a  counterpart  in  the  specu- 
lations of  the  Babylonian  theologians  in  Apsu, 
Mummu,  and  Tiamat;  but  more  consistently,  or  at 
least  more  reasonably,  than  the  Greek  speculation, 
Chaos  is  pictured  as  a  time  when  water  alone  filled 
all  space.     Apsu,  antedating  heaven  and  earth,  is 

1  Psalm  19  :  1. 


ACCOUNTS  OF  CREATION  73 

the  watery  expanse.     Tiamat,  "the  mother  of  all," 
associated    with    Apsu,    is    the    watery    deep,    and 
Mummu,  apparently  the  offspring  of  the  two  through 
the  commingling  of  their  waters,  is  again  a  term 
signifying  water.     It  is   a   time  of  "water,  water 
everywhere."     A    later    attempt    at    differentiation 
makes  Apsu  the  sweet,  and  Tiamat  the  bitter  or 
salt  waters,  with  Mummu  as  the  generic  designa- 
tion for  water  without  further  specification.     How- 
ever this  may  be,  Apsu  and  Tiamat,  in  the  continu- 
ation of  the  story,  are  represented  in  control,  with 
Mummu  as  the  messenger  and  an  army  of  monsters 
as  followers.     The  description  of  these  monsters  as 
"huge  serpents,  sharp  of  tooth  and  with  merciless 
fangs,    their    bodies    filled   with   poison    instead   of 
blood,  dragons,  raging  hounds,  scorpion-men,  fish- 
men,  devastating  tempests,  and  fish-goats,  all  bear- 
ing cruel  weapons,  and  fearless  of  spirit,"  reminds  us 
of  the  Cyclops  and  the  Hekatocheiron  (the  hundred- 
handed   monster),  who  in  Hesiod's  Theogony  form 
part  of  the  progeny  of  Gaia  and  Uranos  by  the 
side  of  the  Titans.     Berosus  also,  in  his  Babylonian 
history,1  recalls  these  traditions  of  an  age  in  which 
monstrous    beings    of  hybrid    form    flourished.     In 
Hesiod  we  do  not  learn,  however,  of  any  opposition 
between  this  army  of  monsters  and  the  gods,  whereas 
the  main  features  of  the  Babylonian  tale  rest  on  a 
coming  conflict  between  the  two  forces.     The  mon- 
sters are  not  the  creation  of  Anu  and  his  consort,  or 

1  See  the  translation  of  the  passage  in  Cory,  Ancient  Fragments,  p.  58; 
or  Zimmern,  Keilinschriften  und  das  Alte  Testament,  pp.  488  seq. 


74      HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

of  An  (Heaven),  and  Ki  (Earth),  but  the  brood  of 
Apsu  and  Tiamat;  and  if  we  may  follow  Berosus, 
who  says  that  a  woman  named  Homorka1  presided 
over  this  strange  host,  a  version  existed  in  which 
the  female  element  as  the  source  of  the  monstrous 
brood  was  alone  introduced. 

Apsu  and  Tiamat  are  disturbed  through  the 
creation  of  the  gods — Lakhmu,  An-shar,  Anu,  Nu- 
dimmud  and  their  consorts.  They  feel  that  with 
the  gods  a  new  element  has  been  introduced  presag- 
ing the  end  of  their  own  rule.  The  daybreak  of  a 
new  order  is  always  coincident  with  the  twilight 
of  the  gods  of  the  dissolving  order,  but  the  old  does 
not  pass  away  without  a  severe  struggle.  Accord- 
ingly, Apsu  and  Tiamat  decide  to  call  upon  their 
forces  for  a  desperate  encounter  for  life  and  death. 
We  can  detect  in  the  description  of  the  struggle 
traces  of  several  versions,  each  presumably  belong- 
ing to  a  separate  centre  that  have  been  combined 
in  accord  with  the  regular  principle  of  composition 
in  the  ancient  and  later  Orient,  which  in  myths, 
legends,  and  historical  narratives  is  always  and  es- 
sentially a  combination  of  existing  traditions.  Tak- 
ing the  version  however  as  it  stands,  the  under- 
current of  thought  which  betrays  the  higher  spirit 
of  the  priests  in  their  remodelling  of  nature-myths 
is  the  contest  between  the  chaotic  and  lawless  con- 

1  Homorka  is  a  corruption  of  some  Babylonian  or  Sumerian  term. 
Since  in  the  course  of  the  story  a  female  being,  Ummu-khubur,  is  intro- 
duced, pointing  to  a  version  in  which  she  takes  the  place  assigned  to 
Tiamat  in  our  story,  it  may  well  be  that  we  have  here  the  original  and 
correct  form  of  Homorka. 


ACCOUNTS  OF  CREATION  75 

ditions  symbolised  by  Apsu  and  Tiamat  and  their 
followers  on  the  one  hand,  and  order  and  higher 
law  on  the  other,  represented  by  the  gods.  The 
new  order  is  the  higher  one,  in  which  respect  we 
again  find  an  analogy  with  Hesiod  who  places  the 
rule  of  Kronos  on  a  higher  plane  than  that  of  his 
father,  while  Zeus  as  the  son  of  Kronos  becomes 
the  symbol  of  law  and  justice. 

Apsu  and  Tiamat  bewail  the  growing  power  of 
the  gods:  "By  day  I  have  no  rest,  at  night  I  have 
no  sleep;  but  I  will  wipe  out  their  course;  I  will 
sweep  them  away;  lamentations  shall  set  in  and 
after  that  we  shall  have  rest  again."  Mummu  comes 
to  give  counsel  to  Apsu  and  Tiamat,  and  the  three 
plan  a  test  of  strength.  There  are  indications  at 
this  point  of  the  story  that  in  an  earlier  version 
the  gods  selected  Ea  (or  Nudimmud)  to  head  the 
fight  in  their  behalf.1  Since  Ea  is  the  chief  god  of 
Eridu — probably  the  oldest  of  the  sacred  cities  of 
Babylon — the  prominence  of  Ea  points  to  a  version 
originating  in  this  centre.  If  this  be  so,  we  may  be 
sure  that  in  this  version  Ea  was  celebrated  as  the 
vanquisher  of  Apsu  and  Tiamat.  In  another  ver- 
sion Anu  was  depicted  as  leader  and  victor,  point- 
ing to  a  form  of  the  story  that  originated  in  Uruk, 
the  seat  of  Anu  worship;  but  Ea  and  Anu  must 
yield  their  claims  to  a  greater  than  either,  to  the 
favourite  of  all  the  gods  who  succeeds  where  others 
failed,  who  excels  them  all  in  strength  and  courage. 

1  See  the  writer's  article,  "The  Composite  Character  of  the  Creation 
Story,"  in  the  Noldeke  Festschrift,  II,  pp.  969-982. 


76     HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

This  is  Marduk,  the  chief  god  of  Babylon.  In  his 
interest,  and  to  add  to  his  glory,  all  the  other  ver- 
sions of  the  nature-myth  are  transformed  so  as  to 
lead  up  to  his  triumph  over  chaos  and  lawlessness. 
Instead  of  Ea  and  Anu  despatching  the  army  of 
monsters,  they  are  represented  as  succeeding  merely 
in  disposing  of  Apsu  and  Mummu,  but  Tiamat,  the 
mother  of  the  brood  of  monsters,  remains  at  large. 
As  already  suggested,  Apsu,  Mummu,  and  Tia- 
mat are  identical  figures  and  represent  the  various 
names  given  to  the  same  chief  symbol  of  watery 
chaos  in  various  centres  but  combined  in  the  latest 
form  of  the  story  and  placed  in  relationship  to  one 
another.  In  Babylon  the  name  of  the  chief  mon- 
ster was  Tiamat.  She  is,  therefore,  the  one  against 
whom  Marduk  in  the  final  form  of  the  tale  directs 
his  attack,  but  the  story  also  implies  that  with 
Apsu  and  Mummu  out  of  the  way  little  has  been 
accomplished,  so  long  as  Tiamat  flourishes.  Once 
more  with  true  epic  breadth  the  army  of  monsters, 
banded  together  at  the  side  of  Tiamat,  are  described 
in  terms  calculated  to  strike  terror  in  the  breast  of 
the  gods.  Eleven  monsters  of  especially  terrific  as- 
pect are  fashioned  by  Tiamat.  She  makes  Kingu 
her  consort  and  appoints  him  as  the  general  of  the 
army.  To  Kingu  she  assigns  the  command  over 
all  the  gods  and  as  a  sign  of  his  power  hangs  the 
tablets  of  destiny  on  his  breast.  The  main  thought 
of  the  story,  as  thus  once  more  revealed,  is  to  pic- 
ture the  opposition  between  the  old  and  the  new 
order,  but  with   this  nuance,   that  the  new  order 


ACCOUNTS  OF  CREATION  77 

has  already  proceeded  far  enough  to  place  the  gods 
in  control  and  that  only  Tiamat  remains  to  be  over- 
come. In  her  despair  Tiamat  takes  the  offensive 
and  openly  revolts,  assuming  the  power  of  decreeing 
fates  which,  it  is  implied,  already  belongs  to  the  new 
order  about  to  triumph.  Thus,  as  the  story  takes 
final  shape,  new  features  are  introduced  which,  while 
adding  also  to  the  dramatic  power,  are  of  value 
chiefly  because  they  reflect  the  thought  and  specula- 
tion of  the  compilers. 

Anshar,  who  presides  over  the  assembly  of  the 
gods  convened  to  take  measures  for  quelling  the  re- 
volt, calls  upon  his  son  Marduk  to  stand  up  against 
Tiamat. 

"The  Lord  rejoiced  at  the  word  of  his  father, 
He  drew  nigh  and  stood  in  Anshar' s  presence. 
Anshar  looked  on  him  and  his  heart  was  filled  with  joy,' 
He  kissed  him  on  the  lips  and  fear  departed  from  him.'* 

Marduk  declares  his  readiness  to  go  against  Tia- 
mat. Nay,  he  is  impatient  to  trample  her  under 
foot,  but  exacts  as  a  condition  that  in  case  of  suc- 
cess he  shall  be  supreme  in  command. 

"'If  I,  your  avenger,'  he  says  to  Anshar, 
'Vanquish  Tiamat  and  give  you  life, 
Then  appoint  an  assembly,  make  my  destiny  supreme. 
In  Upshukkinaku1  seat  yourselves  joyfully. 
My  word  instead  of  yours  shall  decree  fates. 
What  I  determine  to  bring  about  shall  not  be  altered; 
The  utterance  of  my  lips  shall  not  be  taken  back  or  super- 
seded.'" 

1  The  mystical  chamber  of  fate  in  which'the  gods  meet  for  counsel  and 
for  decreeing  destinies. 


78      HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

These  lines  reveal  the  aim  of  the  story  in  its  final 
form,  namely,  to  explain  and  to  justify  the  supreme 
rank  accorded  to  Marduk  as  the  head  of  the  later 
Babylonian  pantheon.  He  won  his  right  to  this 
claim  by  virtue  of  his  power,  and  the  claim  is  thus 
carried  back  in  the  poem  to  the  beginning  of  time. 
The  story  of  Creation  becomes  secondary  to  the  pur- 
pose of  singing  the  praises  of  Marduk.  Hence  three 
of  the  seven  tablets  are  taken  up  with  a  description 
of  the  preparation  for  the  final  conflict  and  with  the 
conflict  itself,  ending  in  the  complete  discomfiture  of 
Tiamat.  The  materialistic  aspect  of  the  old  nature- 
myth  is  emphasised  to  such  a  degree  in  these  three 
tablets  as  to  border  on  vulgarity.  The  gods  are  so 
happy  at  the  prospects  of  Marduk's  victory  that 
they  gorge  themselves  at  a  banquet  and  become 
roaring  drunk. 

"They  were  greatly  at  ease,  their  liver  was  exalted, 
For  Marduk,  their  avenger,  they  decreed  power." 

Even  before  he  sets  out  they  address  him  as 

"Marduk,  thou  art  our  avenger! 
We  give  thee  sovereignty  over  the  whole  universe. 


Thy  fate  [i.  e.,  thy  power]  be  supreme  among  the  gods! 
For  destroying  and  creating  speak  thou  the  word  and  it  will  be 
fulfilled." 

As  proof  of  his  power  he  is  told  to  command  a 
garment  to  vanish,  and  it  promptly  disappears;  and 
upon  his  command  it  reappears.     He  is  hailed  as 


ACCOUNTS  OF  CREATION  79 

"Marduk  is  King!"     Sceptre,  throne,  and  ring  are 
bestowed  on  him,  and  weapons  are  offered  to  him. 

"Go  and  cut  off  the  life  of  Tiamat 
And  let  the  wind  carry  her  blood  to  remote  places." 

Marduk  then  arms  himself  with  weapons  which 
betray  the  naturalistic  element  of  the  original  story. 
He  provides  a  net  with  which  to  enclose  Tiamat; 
he  stations  the  winds  as  gods,  so  as  to  prevent  her 
escape;  various  destructive  winds  are  created  by 
him  and  sent  forth  to  arouse  Tiamat.  He  then 
mounts  his  chariot,  which  is  called  "The  Storm," 
and  drives  headlong  towards  the  monster.  In  ter- 
ror and  dismay  Tiamat  utters  her  powerful  charms, 
but  they  are  of  no  avail.  Undismayed,  Marduk  ap- 
proaches. 

"You  and  I,"  he  shouts,  "come,  let  us  fight." 
Graphically  the  encounter  is  described.  Tiamat  in 
a  rage  opened  her  mouth,  and  Marduk  drove  in  the 
evil  wind  which  filled  her  belly.  She  gasps  for 
breath,  and  Marduk,  taking  advantage  of  this  mo- 
ment, seizes  the  spear  and  bursts  open  her  belly, 
severs  her  entrails  and  penetrates  clear  to  her  heart. 
The  army  of  Tiamat  flees  in  terror,  but  the  mon- 
sters are  all  caught  in  Marduk's  net  and  held  pris- 
oners. 

Thus  the  opposition  to  the  gods  is  overcome,  and 
Marduk  to  symbolise  his  control  takes  from  Kingu, 
the  consort  of  Tiamat,  the  tablets  of  fate  ("which  were 
not  rightfully  Kingu's,"  the  text  adds)  and  hangs 
them  on  his  own  breast.     With  the  triumph  of  Mar- 


80      HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

duk  over  Tiamat  the  story  returns  to  its  original 
purpose,  the  account  of  Creation. 

This  account  thus  turns  out  to  be  a  curious  mix- 
ture of  primitive  notions  such  as  are  found  in  cos- 
mogonies of  other  peoples,  with  a  more  advanced 
symbolism  that  leads  Marduk,  for  example,  to  split 
the  flattened  body  of  Tiamat  in  half  and  to  use 
one  side  of  it  as  a  covering  for  the  heavens.  He 
draws  a  bolt  across  the  expanse  and  stations  a 
watchman,  so  as  to  restrain  the  waters  from  gush- 
ing forth.  This  is  a  purely  primitive  conceit  to  ac- 
count for  the  control  of  the  waters  that  come  from 
above.  Water,  as  the  primeval  element,  is  still 
everywhere  as  it  was  in  the  beginning,  only  under 
control — below,  through  the  bounds  set  to  it;  above, 
through  the  expanse  which  is  stretched  like  a  cover- 
ing or  curtain  across  the  heavens.  The  same  picture 
of  the  waters  above  and  below  and  of  the  expanse  to 
prevent  the  upper  waters  from  escaping  is  found  in 
the  biblical  story;  but  combined  with  this  naive  and 
childlike  conception  there  is  in  the  Babylonian  tale 
the  more  advanced  thought  that  through  the  sun  of 
the  spring,  symbolised  by  Marduk,  the  storms  and 
rains  of  winter  are  driven  back  to  the  heavens  and 
kept  in  control  there  like  prisoners  behind  bolts 
and  bars  under  the  surveillance  of  a  watchman. 

Still  a  third  and  likewise  a  relatively  advanced 
thought  is  woven  into  the  primitive  tale,  one  that 
is  closely  bound  up  with  Babylonian-Assyrian  astral 
mythology,  according  to  which  there  is  a  perfect 
correspondence  between   phenomena   on   earth   and 


ACCOUNTS  OF   CREATION  81 

the  occurrences  in  heaven.  The  waters  of  the  earth 
are  regarded  as  united  to  one  another.  They  en- 
circle the  earth  which  was  conceived  of  as  a  float- 
ing island,  but  these  waters  have  their  counterpart 
in  the  heavens.  Marduk,  accordingly,  is  repre- 
sented as  measuring  out  space  for  the  waters  in 
heaven  to  correspond  to  the  structure  of  the  deep. 
Nudimmud,  or  Ea,  as  the  god  of  the  waters,  is  pro- 
jected to  the  heavens  and  becomes  the  lord  of  the 
upper  as  well  as  of  the  lower  waters,  for  whom  a 
large  mansion  is  constructed.  The  continuation  of 
the  story  is  even  more  astral  in  character.  The 
heavens  in  Babylonian-Assyrian  astrology  were  di- 
vided into  three  large  divisions,  one  assigned  to 
Anu,  the  second  to  Enlil,  and  the  third  to  Ea. 
These  three  gods  constitute  a  triad  that  plays  a 
great  part  in  the  theology  of  Babylonia  and  Assyria. 
Originally  local  deities,  Anu  is  the  sun-god  whose 
centre  of  worship  was  in  Uruk;  Enlil,  the  chief  god 
of  Nippur  and  the  head  of  the  older  Babylonian 
pantheon,  is  a  storm-god  who,  however,  also  ab- 
sorbs the  attributes  of  solar  and  agricultural  deities; 
while  Ea,  a  water  deity,  had  his  centre  at  Eridu 
and  presided  over  the  Persian  Gulf — the  father  of  all 
the  waters,  from  the  Babylonian  point  of  view.  In 
time,  and  through  a  process  which  we  cannot  stop 
to  consider  here,  these  three  gods  are  delocalised  and 
become  abstractions  symbolising  the  three  regions 
of  the  universe,  the  heaven  above,  the  earth  and  the 
atmosphere  immediately  above  it,  and  the  waters 
around  and  under  the   earth — the   same   three   di- 


82      HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

visions  which  we  encounter  in  the  Decalogue,  where 
in  evident  allusion  to  the  personification  of  the  three 
divisions,  the  prohibition  is  emphasised  against  mak- 
ing "any  image  of  what  is  in  the  heaven  above,  on 
the  earth  beneath  or  in  the  waters  under  the  earth" 
(Ex.  20  :  4;  Deut.  5:8).  Under  the  influence  of  as- 
trological doctrines  which  transformed  popular  be- 
liefs into  a  more  systematic  theology,  Anu,  Enlil, 
and  Ea — as  the  three  factors  controlling  the  uni- 
verse— are  projected  on  to  the  heavens  and  become 
the  three  governors  of  the  starry  heavens,  each  hav- 
ing a  region  of  his  own.  The  heavens  then  become 
the  domain  or,  as  the  Babylonians  called  it,  the 
"way"  of  Anu,  Enlil,  and  Ea.  All  the  great  gods, 
irrespective  of  their  origin,  are  projected  on  to  the 
heavens — symbolised  by  stars.  Marduk  assigns 
places  to  these  gods.  Astrology  forming  the  basis 
of  the  calendar,  the  year  is  divided  into  twelve 
months  by  Marduk  and  placed  under  the  control 
of  the  stars.  He  fixes  the  courses  of  the  planets;  he 
places  a  gate  at  either  end  of  the  heavens.  Through 
the  one  the  sun  was  supposed  to  pass  out  in  the 
morning  and  to  enter  through  the  other  at  night; 
he  intrusts  the  night  to  the  moon-god  and  regulates 
the  phases  of  the  moon.  At  this  point,  unfortu- 
nately, the  fifth  tablet  in  which  this  work  of  Mar- 
duk is  detailed  becomes  defective,  but  enough  re- 
mains to  warrant  the  assumption  that  the  chief 
constellations  are  also  established  in  their  places  in 
the  heavens.  Whether  there  was  also  included  in 
the  tablet  an  account  of  the  creation  of  plants  and 


ACCOUNTS  OF  CREATION  83 

verdure  on  the  earth,  as  has  been  supposed  by  some 
scholars,  is  a  point  in  regard  to  which  no  certain 
conclusions  can  be  reached  because  of  the  defective 
condition  of  the  tablet.  Up  to  this  point,  then,  we 
have  only  four  themes:  (i)  the  description  of  pri- 
meval chaos;  (2)  a  conflict  between  the  older  and 
the  newer  order;  (3)  the  triumph  and  glorification 
of  Marduk;  (4)  the  regulation  of  the  movements  in 
the  heavens  or  astral  cosmogony,  if  this  expression 
be  allowed.  A  detailed  plan  of  creation  does  not, 
therefore,  appear  to  have  been  the  main  aim,  at 
least  of  this  version,  of  the  Babylonian  tale — and 
this  despite  the  fact  that  in  the  sixth  tablet  the 
creation  of  man  is  introduced. 

The  point  of  view  from  which  this  work  of  crea- 
tion is  done  is  interesting.  The  gods  are  in  full 
control.  The  older  order  represented  by  Apsu,  Tia- 
mat,  Mummu,  Kingu,  Ummu-khubur  has  disap- 
peared. The  gods  ought  to  be  happy,  but  apparently 
are  not.  They  are  lonely  in  their  solitary  grandeur, 
just  as  Adam  is  represented  as  being  lonely  without 
a  companion;  but  the  loneliness  of  the  gods  is  of  a 
different  order.  The  Babylonian  could  not  conceive 
of  gods  without  temples  and  worship.  His  view 
of  divine  government  of  the  universe  was  limited 
by  his  conception  of  the  gods  themselves  and  their 
consorts.  Creating  their  gods  in  their  own  image, 
the  Babylonians,  in  common  with  other  peoples  of 
antiquity,  endowed  them  with  purely  human  attri- 
butes and  needs.  Hence  the  gods  have  female  con- 
sorts  and    raise   families.     They   are  rulers,  but  as 


84      HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

such  they  must  not  only  have  a  kingdom  to  rule 
over  like  earthly  kings,  but  they  demand  homage 
and  tribute.  What  is  the  use  of  being  a  god  if 
there  is  no  one  there  to  pay  worship — if  there  are 
no  temples  in  which  offerings  and  sacrifices  can  be 
brought  and  homage  paid  ?  Strange  as  it  may  seem, 
the  complaint  of  the  gods  to  Marduk  that  they  feel 
lonely,  unhappy,  and  neglected  because  there  is  no 
one  to  worship  them  is  assigned  as  the  reason  for 
the  creation  of  man.  It  is  provoking  that  the  sixth 
tablet  in  which  the  creation  of  man  is  recounted 
breaks  off  at  the  most  important  juncture.  Let  us 
hope  that  a  lucky  chance  will  some  day  supply  the 
missing  sections  without  which  our  view  of  the  Mar- 
duk epic  of  necessity  remains  defective.  The  open- 
ing lines  read  as  follows:1 

"Upon   Marduk's  hearing  the  utterance  of  the  gods  he  was 

prompted  to  carry  out  [a  clever  plan]. 
He  opened  his  mouth  and  unto  Ea  [he  spake], 
What  he  had  conceived  in  his  heart  he  revealed  to  him. 
'My  blood  I  will  gather  and  bone  [I  will  (take)], 
I  will  set  up  man  that  man  may  .  .  . 
I  will  create  man  to  inhabit  [the  earth], 
That  the  worship  of  the  gods  may  be  established,  that  shrines 

[may  be  built]. 
I  will  change  the  ways  of  the  gods,  I  will  alter. 
Altogether  shall  they  be  honored,  against  evil  [will  they  set 

their  face].'  " 

What  a  contrast  to  the  biblical  account  where 
man  is  created  in  the  image  of  God  to  be  the  crown- 

^he  bracketed  words  indicate  conjectural  restorations  of  defective 
lines. 


ACCOUNTS  OF  CREATION  85 

ing  point  of  the  universe,  placed  in  an  earthly  Para- 
dise by  the  favour  of  the  Almighty;  whereas  here 
man  exists  because  the  gods  are  lonely  and  in  their 
vanity  crave  worship  and  adoration.  An  interest- 
ing feature,  however,  of  the  Babylonian  narrative 
which  redeems  it  in  a  measure  from  its  crude  aspect 
is  the  creation  of  man  from  the  blood  of  Marduk 
himself.  This  touch  is  confirmed  by  the  account  in 
Berosus  which,  preserved  for  us  through  secondary 
sources,1  confirms  the  cuneiform  account,  though  the 
tradition  has  become  somewhat  distorted.  Bel,  as 
Marduk  is  called  in  the  extract  from  Berosus,  see- 
ing that  the  earth  was  not  cultivated,  is  represented 
as  cutting  off  his  head  or  ordering  one  of  the  gods 
to  do  so;  and  from  the  flowing  blood  mixed  with 
earth,  man  was  created.  Through  this  blood  man 
is  brought  into  association  with  the  gods — a  link 
is  forged  connecting  man  with  the  divine.  We  may 
properly  assume  that  this  thought  was  in  the  mind 
of  the  compilers  of  the  Babylonian  tale,  and  that  it 
reflected  the  view  held  of  man's  dignity,  thus  rising 
supreme  over  the  animal  world.  In  so  far  man  and 
God  are,  as  it  were,  placed  on  the  same  level;  and 
the  association  of  the  two  plays  a  part  in  the  Baby- 
lonian theology  which,  e.  g.9  in  the  case  of  the  hero 
of  the  national  epic,  describes  Gilgamesh  as  two- 
thirds  god  and  one-third  man.  The  deification  of 
kings  which  we  encounter  at  various  points  of  Baby- 


1  Through  Alex.  Polyhistor  and  Nicholas  of  Damascus  (sixth  century 
A.  D.).  See  the  translation  in  Cory's  Ancient  Fragments,  p.  60;  or 
Zimmern,  Keilinschriften  und  das  Alte  Testament,  pp.  489  seq. 


86     HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

Ionian  history1  is  another  expression  of  this  relation- 
ship between  gods  and  men,  which  is  involved  in 
the  doctrine  that  gives  to  man  the  blood  of  the 
gods. 

The  Babylonian-Assyrian  religion  may  be  said  to 
revolve  largely  around  the  two  ideas  which  we  find 
expressed  in  the  sixth  tablet  of  the  Marduk  epic — 
the  worship  of  the  gods  as  one  of  the  purposes  for 
which  man  exists,  and  the  presence  of  a  divine  ele- 
ment in  man,  typified  by  the  blood  of  Marduk  which 
is  the  life-giving  quality  of  the  god's  own  being.  It 
is  a  fair  inference  that  the  continuation  of  the  sixth 
tablet  embraced  an  account  of  the  creation  of  ani- 
mals— as  given  in  the  tradition  of  Berosus — and 
perhaps  also  of  plants.  At  all  events,  towards  the 
end  of  the  tablet  we  see  the  gods  assembled  in  Up- 
shukkinaku — the  great  hall  where  the  fates  are  de- 
termined. Marduk  has  snatched  from  Kingu  the 
tablets  of  fate  and  hung  them  around  his  own  neck. 
He  is  hailed  as  the  great  conqueror  who  has  deliv- 
ered the  gods  from  their  opponents;  and  the  seventh 
and  closing  tablet  of  the  series  is  taken  up  with  the 
enumeration  of  the  fifty  names  bestowed  upon  Mar- 
duk— names  that  represent  in  part  attributes  to 
indicate  his  manifold  powers,  in  part  other  gods 
whose  essence  and  powers  are  transferred  to  him 
as  the  one  who  absorbs  the  minor  and  most  of  the 
major  gods  of  the  pantheon.  Attached  to  each 
name  is  an  explanation  of  its  meaning  and  applica- 

1  See  on  this  King,  History  of  Sumer  and  Akkad,  pp.  251,  273  seq., 
298  seq. 


ACCOUNTS  OF  CREATION  87 

tion.  Asari,  "the  bestower  of  planting,  the  estab- 
lisher  of  seeds,  creator  of  grain  and  plants,  causing 
the  green  herbs  to  spring  up";  Asari-alim,  "revered 
in  the  house  of  counsel";  Asari-alim-nunna,  "the 
mighty  one,  the  light  of  the  father  who  begat  him, 
who  directs  the  commands  of  Anu,  Enlil,  and  Ea"; 
Tutu,  "who  creates  anew";  and  so  on  through  the 
long  list  celebrating  Marduk  as  the  sun-god,  as  the 
god  of  vegetation,  as  the  creator  of  everything  on 
earth,  and  as  the  guide  of  the  movements  in  the 
heavens.  He  thus  becomes  in  fact  the  god  of  heaven 
and  earth,  "without  a  rival  among  the  gods,"  as  it 
is  expressly  stated.  Besides  attributes  of  strength, 
ethical  qualities  are  also  ascribed  to  him  among  the 
titles  heaped  upon  him.  He  is  the  subduer  of  the 
disobedient,  director  of  righteousness,  the  destroyer 
of  all  the  wicked;  but  the  climax  is  reached  when 
the  older  heads  of  the  pantheon — Enlil  of  Nippur, 
and  Ea  of  Eridu,  whom  Marduk  supplants — bestow 
their  names  upon  him,  and  with  their  names  their 
very  beings  in  accordance  with  the  ideas  anciently 
associated  with  the  name.1 

"  *  The  lord  of  the  worlds/  father  Enlil  called  him, 
The  designation  proclaimed  by  all  the  Igigi.2 
Ea  heard  it  and  his  liver  rejoiced. 
'He  whose  name  his  father  made  glorious 
Shall  be  even  as  I — Ea  be  his  name. 
The  control  of  all  decrees  be  his  sphere. 
All  my  commands  shall  he  make  known.' " 

1  The  name,  according  to  the  prevailing  view  in  antiquity,  is  the  es- 
sence of  a  being  or  object.  To  have  a  name  is  to  exist;  to  wipe  out 
one's  name  is  to  destroy  one. 

2  A  name  comprising  a  lower  order  of  divine  beings. 


88      HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

Thus  the  older  version  in  which  Ea  is  celebrated 
as  the  creator  is  combined  with  the  new  one.  Ea 
is  replaced  by  Marduk.  The  aim  of  the  story — 
the  celebration  of  the  deeds  of  Marduk — is  dis- 
tinctly avowed  in  the  epilogue  attached  to  the  nar- 
rative, in  which  all  are  called  upon  to  hold  the  fifty 
names  in  remembrance. 

"Let  the  wise  and  the  man  of  understanding  consider  them 
together, 
Let  the  father  repeat  them  and  teach  them  to  his  son, 
Let  them  resound  in  the  ears  of  pastor  and  shepherd. 
May  one  rejoice  in  Marduk  the  lord  of  the  gods, 
That  his  land  may  prosper — glory  to  him! 
His  word  stands  firm,  his  command  is  unalterable, 
The  utterance  of  his  mouth  no  god  alters. 
If  he  is  enangered,  his  neck  is  not  turned, 
If  he  is  wroth,  no  god  can  oppose  him. 
But  wide  is  his  heart,  broad  is  his  compassion/' 

These  closing  lines  touch  the  high-water  mark  of 
religious  thought  in  Babylonia  and  Assyria.  They 
show  that  even  in  a  materialistic  conception  of  di- 
vine government  and  despite  the  crude  manner  in 
which  primitive  traditions  are  handed  down,  the 
deeper  religious  note  is  sounded,  and  the  aspiration 
of  man  to  reach  out  to  an  understanding  of  the 
mysteries  of  life  and  of  the  universe  finds  an  utter- 
ance, even  though  it  be  a  weak  one. 


ACCOUNTS  OF  CREATION  89 


III 

There  is  another  Babylonian  version  of  the  story 
of  Creation1  which  likewise  shows  evidence  of  hav- 
ing been  adapted  from  an  older  form  to  serve  the 
purposes  of  the  priests  of  Babylon  to  add  to  the  glory 
of  Marduk,  and  about  which  a  few  words  need  to 
be  said  before  we  pass  on  to  a  consideration  of  the 
Hebrew  accounts.  It  is  important  to  note  that  in 
this  second  version — unfortunately  preserved  only 
in  part — the  same  idea  that  the  earth  existed  pri- 
marily for  the  sake  of  the  temples  of  the  gods  can 
be  traced.  As  in  the  other  version,  the  primitive 
state  of  things  is  pictured  as  a  time  when  the  waters 
covered  everything,  but  the  interesting  touch  is 
added  that  the  dry  land  appears  through  the  gath- 
ering of  the  waters  into  a  channel.  In  order  to  de- 
scribe the  primeval  period  the  account  begins  by 
saying  that  no  holy  house,  no  house  of  the  gods, 
no  sacred  place  had  been  built.  It  continues  as 
follows : 

"No  reed  had  sprung  up,  no  tree  had  been  planted, 
No  brick  laid,  no  building  erected, 
No  house  made,  no  city  founded." 

It  will  be  observed  that  there  is  no  direct  refer- 
ence to  the  fact  that  the  earth  did  not  exist.  Its  ex- 
istence, indeed,  appears  to  be  assumed,  only  that  it 

1  See  King,  Seven   Tablets  of  Creation,   II,    pp.    130-9 — a  Sumerian 
original  with  an  Akkadian  translation. 


90     HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

is  submerged  through  the  waters  which  everywhere 
abound.  The  account  then  mentions  three  of  the 
most  ancient  cities — Nippur,  Uruk,  and  Eridu — and 
says  that  none  of  these  three  had  been  founded  and 
their  temples  did  not  yet  exist.  Again,  it  will  be 
observed,  the  association  of  city  with  temple,  as 
though  the  one  without  the  other  were  inconceiv- 
able. "All  the  land,"  the  account  continues,  "was 
sea. 

The  adaptation  of  the  older  version  to  a  form  which 
would  accord  with  the  position  of  Marduk  as  the 
head  of  the  pantheon  is  to  be  seen  in  the  enumera- 
tion of  the  first  places  to  appear  after  the  waters 
had  flowed  into  a  channel,  in  consequence  of  which 
the  dry  land  came  into  view.  Eridu  and  Babylon 
take  the  place  of  Nippur,  Uruk,  and  Eridu  in  the 
opening  lines  of  this  version.  We  might,  indeed, 
have  expected  Babylon  to  be  mentioned  as  the  first 
city,  but  a  concession  is  made  to  established  tradi- 
tion in  joining  Eridu  with  Babylon  because  of  the 
close  association  between  Marduk,  the  god  of  the 
city  of  Babylon,  and  Ea,  the  god  of  the  much  older 
city  of  Eridu.  Marduk,  despite  his  position  at  the 
head  of  the  pantheon,  is  invariably  and  through  all 
periods  of  history  designated  as  the  son  of  Ea, 
which  points  to  the  transfer  of  the  Marduk  cult 
from  Eridu  to  Babylon.  This  transfer  is  also  shown 
in  the  circumstance  that  the  name  of  Ea's  sanctuary 
at  Eridu  is  identical  with  that  of  Marduk's  temple 
at  Babylon,  called  E-Sagila,  the  "lofty  house."  We 
therefore  read  in  this  second  version: 


ACCOUNTS  OF  CREATION  91 

"Then  Eridu  was  established  and  E-Sagila  built. 
E-Sagila  where  in  the  midst  of  the  deep  the  god  Lugal-dulazagga 

has  his  dwelling. 
Babylon  was  built,  E-Sagila  completed. 
The  Anunnaki1  together  were  created. 

The  holy  city,  the  dwelling  of  their  choice,  they  proclaimed  as 
supreme." 

The  purpose  of  these  lines  lies  on  the  surface — 
to  justify  the  pre-eminent  position  occupied  by  the 
city  of  Babylon,  the  sanctity  of  which  is  thus  car- 
ried back  to  the  very  beginning  of  time.  As  in  the 
first  version,  mankind  is  created  by  Marduk  for  the 
sake  of  the  gods,  though  the  purpose  is  put  some- 
what differently  in  this  version, 

"In  order  that  the  gods  may  be  induced  to  dwell  in  the  dwell- 
ing place  of  their  choice,  he  created  mankind." 

The  gods  proclaim  Babylon  as  the  city  of  their 
choice,  but  in  order  to  induce  them  to  retain  this 
preference  for  all  times,  mankind  is  created  to  render 
them  the  homage  and  tribute  that  will  keep  them  in 
a  happy  frame  of  mind,  favourably  disposed  for  all 
time  towards  the  city  of  their  heart.  At  this  point 
the  most  interesting  feature  of  the  second  version 
is  introduced.  A  distinct  reference  is  made  to  an 
earlier  form  of  the  story  in  which  Marduk  is  the 
creator  but  in  association  with  a  goddess  Aruru. 
In  order  to  combine  Marduk  with  Aruru  the  old 
version  is  modified  to  read: 

1  Another  name  to  comprise  a  lower  order  of  divine  beings  like  the 
Igigi  (above,  p.  87).  As  a  means  of  differentiating  between  the  two, 
the  Anunnaki  are  represented  as  the  spirits  of  the  earth,  and  the  Igigi 
as  the  spirits  of  heaven. 


92      HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

"The  goddess  Aruru,   together  with  him,  created  the  seed  of 
mankind. " 

We  have  not,  as  yet,  been  able  to  ascertain  in 
what  centre  this  goddess  Aruru  was  worshipped.  We 
come  across  her  occasionally  in  the  religious  litera- 
ture, but  generally  as  the  consort  of  Marduk.  The 
circumstance,  however,  that  in  this  second  version 
her  name  appears  first  and  that  it  is  she  who,  to- 
gether with  Marduk  (and  not  vice  versa),  creates 
mankind  is  most  significant  as  a  proof  that  in  the 
older  form  of  the  story  the  prominent  part  in  the 
creation  of  mankind,  at  least,  and  probably  also  in 
the  creation  of  animals,  was  played  by  the  personi- 
fication of  the  female  principle  in  nature.  There 
now  follows  in  a  systematic  though  brief  form  the 
account  of  the  creation  of  animals  and  of  verdure. 

"Cattle  of  the  field,  living  creatures  were  created  in  the  field. 
(Tigris  and  Euphrates  were  created  and  placed  in  position; 
Good  names  were  given  to  them.)1 
Grass,  reed,  .  .  .  were  created. 
The  verdure  of  the  field  was  created." 

The  composite  character  of  the  account  is  revealed 
in  the  following  lines,  showing  evidently  a  variant 
account  with  an  interesting  distinction  between  wild 
and  domesticated  animals: 

"Lands,  marshes  and  steppes,2  .  .  . 
The  wild  cow  and  her  young,  the  wild  calf, 

the  ewe  and  her  young,  the  lamb  of  the  stall, 
Gardens  and  woods, 
Goat  and  wild  mountain  goat." 

1  These  two  lines  represent,  I  believe,  a  later  insertion. 

2  The  exact  meaning  of  two  further  terms  for  plant  life  escapes  us. 


ACCOUNTS  OF  CREATION  93 

It  is  not  necessary  for  our  purposes  to  consider 
the  problems  involved  in  this  compilation  in  detail. 
We  may  content  ourselves  with  the  general  state- 
ment that  in  the  older  forms  of  this  second  version 
the  beginning  is  made  with  the  creation  of  mankind 
in  order  that  he  may  worship  the  gods;  that  this 
creation  was  brought  about  by  the  goddess  Aruru, 
who  also  brings  into  being  the  beasts  of  the  field 
and  the  living  creatures  of  the  field.  Then,  in  order 
to  make  the  earth  habitable,  reeds  are  formed,  trees 
created,  bricks  laid,  buildings  set  up,  houses  erected, 
cities  established,  living  creatures  placed  therein; 
and,  finally,  corresponding  to  the  enumeration  of 
cities  at  the  beginning  of  the  story: 

"Nippur  was  established,  E-Kur1  was  built, 
Uruk  was  made,  E-Anna2  was  erected, 
Eridu  was  made,  E-Sagila  built." 

The  tablet  on  which  this  second  story  is  recounted 
turns  out  to  be  an  incantation  text.  Accordingly, 
after  the  story  is  finished,  the  writer  passes  on  to  a 
prayer  and  to  instructions  for  the  ritual  in  connec- 
tion with  the  recital  of  the  sacred  formulas. 

In  the  same  way  we  find  in  other  texts  forming 
prayers  or  incantations  references  to  the  great  con- 
test against  Tiamat,  to  the  creation  of  mankind,  and 
to  early  conditions  existing  on  the  globe.  So,  in 
one  of  these  texts3  the  enormous  size  of  the  dragon 

1  "The  mountain  house  " — the  name  of  Enlil's  sanctuary  in  Nippur. 

2  "The  heavenly  house  " — the  name  of  the  goddess  Nana's  sanctuary 
in  Uruk. 

3  King,  ib.,  II,  pp.  1 16-127. 


94      HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

is  dwelt  upon  as  covering  about  three  hundred  miles 
in  length  and  six  miles  in  breadth,  his  mouth  meas- 
uring six  cubits  and  his  ears(?)  fourteen  cubits. 
The  variations  in  current  tradition  are  illustrated  in 
this  account  of  the  dragon  by  making  the  one  who 
despatches  it  not  Marduk  but  a  god  Tishpak;  and, 
strangely  enough,  the  dragon  is  represented  as  appear- 
ing after  mankind  had  been  created  and  cities  had 
been  founded.  This  touch  is  of  importance  as  fur- 
nishing a  further  proof  for  the  thesis  that  all  the 
versions  of  creation  current  among  the  Babylonians 
and  Assyrians  are  merely  poetic  representations  of 
the  contest  between  winter  and  spring.  There  is 
no  real  creation  of  the  world  in  the  correct  sense 
of  the  term,  but  only  a  conquest  of  the  waters  at 
one  time  covering  everything,  driving  them  back,  as 
it  were,  so  as  to  afford  a  place  for  the  dry  land. 

In  the  same  way  the  gods,  or  at  least  the  same 
group  of  gods,  are  regarded  as  having  been  in  exist- 
ence even  at  the  beginning  of  things.  The  only  real 
act  of  creation  is  that  involved  in  putting  man  on 
earth  in  order  to  serve  the  gods — and  in  connection 
with  man,  other  forms  of  animal  life;  while  verdure 
and  plants  are  represented  as  springing  up  natu- 
rally after  the  dry  land  had  appeared.  Perhaps  even 
animal  life  was  placed  here  for  the  sake  of  man,  just 
as  the  vegetation  that  sprung  up  on  the  earth  is 
assumed  to  exist  because  it  is  necessary  for  man's 
subsistence.  Without  pressing  this  point  too  far, 
emphasis  should,  however,  be  laid  on  the  limited 
scope  of  creation  in  the  Babylonian-Assyrian  stories. 


ACCOUNTS  OF  CREATION  95 

The  main  point  of  view  is  not  to  indicate  the  source 
or  the  successive  stages  in  the  work  of  creation,  but 
to  ascribe  to  the  one  god  or  the  other  the  glory  of 
having  conquered  the  storms  and  rains  of  the  win- 
try seasons,  symbolised  by  a  great  monster  who  is 
surrounded  by  a  host  of  lesser  monsters.  In  other 
words,  the  glory  of  some  local  deity  is  the  leading 
thought  in  all  these  versions,  and  for  our  purposes 
it  matters  little  whether  the  divine  hero  is  Enlil, 
Ea,  Marduk,  Tishpak,  or  the  goddess  Aruru.  The 
nature-myth  predominates. 

A  still  older  form  of  the  nature-myth  has  recently 
been  discovered  by  Doctor  Arno  Poebel1  in  the  col- 
lections of  the  University  of  Pennsylvania.  In  con- 
tradistinction to  the  main  version,  which  is  in  Bab- 
ylonian, this  new  text  is  written  like  the  second 
version  in  Sumerian,  but  without  an  accompanying 
translation — an  indication  of  its  great  antiquity. 
Coming  from  the  temple  archives  at  Nippur,  it  is 
natural  to  find  a  part  in  the  work  of  creation  as- 
signed to  Enlil;  but  associated  with  Enlil  is  his 
consort  Ninkharsag,2  besides  Anu  the  god  of  Uruk, 
and  a  deity,  Enki,  or  Ea,  the  water-god  of  Eridu. 
The  association  of  Anu,  Enlil  and  Enki  clearly 
points  to  a  combination  of  this  Nippur  version 
with  older  Uruk  and  Eridu  versions.  The  Sumerian 
priests  of  Nippur  evidently  received  their  account 
of  Creation  from  still  older  centres,  of  whose  history 

1  "Historical,  Grammatical,  and  Religious  Texts  Chiefly  from  Nippur," 
Text  No.  i  in  vol.  VI  of  the  new  series  of  the  '  Babylonian  Publications 
of  the  Museum  of  Archaeology  of  the  University  of  Pennsylvania ' 
(Philadelphia,  1913).  2Also  called  Nintu. 


96     HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

we  know  as  yet  practically  nothing,  but  transferred 
the  role  of  creator  to  their  favourite,  Enlil.  In  this 
version  we  are  told: 

"  After  Anu,  Enlil,  Enki  and  Ninkharsag  had  created  the  black- 
headed  people, 

The  animals,  the  four-legged  ones  they  artfully  created. 

Then  he  established  the  sublime  commandments  and  pre- 
cepts. 

He  founded  .  .  .  cities  on  clean  spots. 

Their  names  were  called  and  they  were  allotted  to  .  .  . 

[As  the  first]  of  the  cities  he  assigned  the  city  of  Eridu  to  the 
leader  Nudimmud 

Secondly,  he  assigned  the  city  of  Bad-nagar-dish  .  .  . 

Thirdly,  he  assigned  the  city  of  Larak  to  Pabil-kharsag 

Fourthly,  he  assigned  the  city  of  Sippar  to  the  warrior  Shamash 

Fifthly,  he  assigned  the  city  of  Shuruppak  to  the  god  of  Shu- 
ruppak." 

The  order  in  which  the  great  cities  of  the  Euphra- 
tes Valley  arose  naturally  differs  in  the  different 
versions,  but  it  is  interesting  to  note  that  in  this 
new  version  also  Eridu  is  assigned  the  first  place,  a 
valuable  indication  of  the  oldest  source  to  which 
probably  all  the  Babylonian  creation  stories  are  to 
be  traced. 

The  story  then  passes  over  to  an  account  of  a 
deluge  from  which  Ziugiddu,  a  king  and  priest 
(of  Shuruppakf?]),  is  saved.  The  Creation  myth 
thus  serves  in  this  version  as  an  introduction  to 
the    description    of   the    Deluge.1     In    its    complete 

1  Doctor  Poebel  is  of  the  opinion  that  the  tablet  in  question  forms 
one  of  a  series  which  began  with  a  full  account  of  the  creation  of  the 


ACCOUNTS  OF  CREATION  97 

form  the  tablet  (or  a  preceding  one  of  the  series) 
no  doubt  contained  an  account  of  the  conflict  be- 
tween Enlil  and  the  dragon  which,  we  have  seen,  is 
the  invariable  feature  of  Babylonian  creation  stories, 
symbolising  the  change  of  seasons  from  winter  to 
spring. 

It  is,  in  fact,  because  of  the  strong  hold  acquired 
by  this  ancient  tradition  of  the  world  coming  into 
existence  in  the  spring  as  a  result  of  the  conquest 
of  winter,  that  Babylonia  and  Assyria  were  pre- 
vented from  reaching  out  to  a  more  impressive  view 
of  the  creation  of  the  world,  one  that  would  be 
marked  by  an  attempt  to  trace  the  various  steps 
in  an  evolutionary  process. 

To  sum  up  then,  the  various  Babylonian  creation 
stories  remain  on  the  level  of  nature-myths.  They 
contain  a  variety  of  interesting  pictures  as  well  as 
thoughts  and  suggestions  which  indicate  the  attempt 
to  rise  superior  to  the  myth,  but  an  attempt  that  is, 
on  the  whole,  weak  and  completely  fails.  There  is 
little  if  anything  of  a  spiritual  character  in  these 
tales.  The  gods  impress  one  as  majestic  and  grand, 
but  with  decided  limitations  of  character  due  to 
the  materialistic  form  in  which  they  are  conceived. 
Even  man,  though  viewed  as  a  special  creation  of 

world  after  the  conquest  of  the  dragon  by  Enlil,  then  took  up  the  nar- 
rative of  the  great  Deluge  and  passed  on  in  another  tablet  to  a  list  of 
kings  from  the  time  of  the  Deluge  onward.  If  this  view  be  correct,  we 
would  have  in  this  continuous  narrative  a  parallel  to  the  biblical  com- 
pilation of  narratives  of  Creation  and  of  the  Deluge  with  chronological 
lists  sandwiched  in  (Gen.  chap.  5).  The  high  figures  assigned  in 
Genesis  to  the  lives  of  the  antediluvian  patriarchs  are  again  paralleled 
by  the  extraordinary  lengths  assigned  to  the  reign  of  the  earliest  Baby- 
lonian rulers  in  the  tablet  published  by  Poebel  (ib.,  Nos.  2-4,  of  vol.  VI). 


98      HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

one  god  or  the  other,  whichever  happened  to  be  at 
the  head  of  the  pantheon  in  the  centre  in  which 
the  version  arose,  is  not  endowed  with  any  spiritual 
powers.  True,  the  blood  of  the  god  was  given  to 
man,  but  this  gift  merely  reflects  the  current  view 
that  life  comes  from  the  gods  and  that  there  is  a 
link  uniting  man  with  the  higher  powers.  Man  ex- 
ists for  the  sake  of  the  gods.  Mankind  is  created 
to  provide  worshippers  for  the  gods  and  to  build 
temples  in  their  honour.  That  is  the  characteristic 
last  word  of  the  Babylonian-Assyrian  view  of  man's 
place  in  nature. 

IV 

Turning  now  to  the  story  of  Creation  as  recounted 
in  the  first  two  chapters  of  Genesis,  we  note,  in  the 
first  place,  that,  as  among  the  Babylonians,  there 
were  several  versions  current.  Two  of  these,  differ- 
ing considerably  from  one  another  in  matters  of  de- 
tail, are  preserved  in  the  first  two  chapters  of  Gene- 
sis.1 In  addition,  we  have  scattered  references,  in 
poetical  books  like  Job,  in  some  of  the  Psalms,  in 
poetical  passages  embodied  in  the  orations  of  the 
Hebrew  Prophets,  and  in  the  apocalyptic  literature2 
which  indicate  the  existence  of  a  considerable 
amount  of  what  may  be  called  popular  tradition  in 
regard  to  the  creation  of  the  world,  and  which,  it  is 
quite  possible,  likewise  existed  in  a  definite  literary 

1  See  the  analysis  in  Skinner's  or  Gunkel's  Commentary  on  Genesis. 

2  Collected  and  discussed  in  Gunkel's  Schopfung  und  Chaos,  pp.  29- 
Iii  (Gottingen,  1895). 


ACCOUNTS  OF  CREATION  99 

form.  Since,  however,  it  is  evident  from  internal 
evidence  that  the  collection  known  as  the  Old  Testa- 
ment represents  only  a  portion  of  the  literature 
produced  by  the  Hebrews  in  pre-exilic  and  post- 
exilic  days,  there  is  a  strong  presumption  in  favour 
of  the  view  that  the  two  versions  of  the  Creation 
preserved  for  us  by  no  means  exhaust  the  literary 
material  once  current  among  the  Hebrews  in  regard 
to  the  ever-fascinating  subject  of  Beginnings. 

The  second  version,  beginning  with  the  fourth 
verse  of  chapter  2  and  extending  to  the  end  of  the 
chapter,  is  the  briefer  of  the  two  and,  evidently  in 
the  form  preserved,  assumes  the  existence  of  chap- 
ter 1,  the  compiler  contenting  himself  with  intro- 
ducing in  the  second  chapter  only  such  features  as 
are  not  covered  in  the  first.  It  begins  with  the  state- 
ment: "These  are  the  generations  of  Heaven  and 
Earth  as  they  were  created/'  to  which  there  is  added 
as  an  explanatory  comment:  "On  the  day  that  Yah- 
weh  Elohim  made  Earth  and  Heaven. "  The  second 
part  of  this  verse  is  apparently  attached  in  order 
to  prepare  us  for  what  follows,  which  is  entirely 
devoted  to  an  account  of  what  happened  on  earth 
— the  springing  up  of  verdure,  vegetation,  and  the 
creation  of  man.  Nothing  whatever  is  said  about 
the  heavens — presumably  for  the  reason  already 
suggested  that  in  the  first  version  this  has  been 
covered,  and  we  may  therefore  conclude  that  the 
second  version  was  in  this  respect  identical  with  the 
first.  All  that  we  learn  therefore  from  the  second 
version  is   that  the  earth,   the   special  creation  of 


100    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

which  is  not  indicated,  is  a  desolate  waste  because 
not  fertilised   by  rain   and    because  man  was  not 
there  to  cultivate  the  ground.     The  point  of  view, 
it  will  be  observed,  is  distinctly  agricultural;  and 
this  is  borne  out  by  the  continuation  of  the  story 
which  tells  how  moisture  arose  from  the  earth  and 
soaked  or  watered  the  ground  and  how  God  created 
man  through  dust  from  the  soil  and  blew  into  his 
nostrils  the  breath  of  life.     The  earth  thus  becomes 
the  mother  of  mankind,  and  the  source  of  all  life 
and  vegetation.     The  earth  having  been  watered, 
Yahweh  Elohim  plants  a  garden  to  the  east  of  Eden 
— which  appears  to  be  used  here  for  a  district  in 
southern  Babylonia — and  there  he  places  man  orig- 
inally for  the  purpose  of  enjoying  the  fruits  of  the 
trees  planted  by  God  Himself  and  without  any  ef- 
fort on   man's   behalf.     But   in  verse   15  we  come 
across  a  somewhat  difFerent  tradition,  according  to 
which  man  was  placed  in  the  Garden  of  Eden  "to 
cultivate  it  and   to  guard  it,"   suggesting  a  com- 
parison with  the  account  of  the  creation  of  man  as 
given  by  Berosus,1  and  according  to  which  man  is 
placed   here   because   the   earth  was   barren,   there 
being  none  to  cultivate  it.     From  the  same  ground 
from  which  man  is  taken  Yahweh  Elohim  creates 
the  animals  of  the  field,  and  the  birds  of  heaven. 
It  is  noticeable  that  there  is  no  reference  in  this 
version  to  animal  life  in  the  waters.     The  version 
in  fact  seems  to  glide  rapidly  over  the  whole  work 
of  creation  in  order  to  reach  the  main  point  of  the 

1  See  above,  p.  85. 


ACCOUNTS  OF  CREATION  101 

compiler,  which  is  to  set  forth  his  theory  of  the  posi- 
tion of  man  in  nature,  and  the  reason  for  the  condi- 
tions of  life  which  he  finds,  on  the  whole,  to  be  hard 
and  harsh.  On  the  one  hand,  man  is  the  lord  of 
creation,  as  in  the  first  version,  and  this  is  symbol- 
ised by  the  privilege  accorded  to  him  of  giving  names 
to  all  the  animals.  There  seems  to  have  been  still 
present  in  the  mind  of  this  compiler  the  old  notion 
that  the  name  was  an  essential  part  of  the  being. 
He  did  not  go  so  far  as  to  assume  that  the  one  who 
gave  the  name  was  also  the  creator,  but,  at  least, 
in  supplying  the  name,  he  completed  Creation  itself 
by  the  addition  of  an  essential  factor.  But  why, 
this  compiler  asks  himself,  is  it  that  man  whose 
superiority  over  the  rest  of  creation  is  thus  acknowl- 
edged, is  himself  a  hard-working  slave,  compelled 
to  drudge  in  order  to  maintain  life — that  gift  of 
God,  given  to  him  by  the  Creator  Himself?  Our 
compiler  is  a  philosopher  who  ponders  over  the 
problems  of  existence  and  whose  conclusions  are  so 
gloomy  in  character  that  he  may  with  some  justice 
be  called  the  father  of  pessimism.  There  is,  to  be 
sure,  a  somewhat  brighter  touch  in  his  account  of 
the  creation  of  woman.  He  represents  man  as  being 
lonely  and  finding  no  worthy  associate  among  the 
animals.  In  the  Babylonian  epoch  of  Gilgamesh  l 
there  is  an  interesting  account  of  primitive  man  ac- 
tually living  with  the  animals,  and  it  may  well 
be  that  the  compiler  of  the  second  version  had  a 

tablet  I,  86-91  according  to  Ungnad-Gressmann's  edition  of  Das 
Gilgamesch-Epos.  (Gottingen,  191 1). 


102    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

faint  recollection  of  such  a  tradition.1  He  has, 
however,  an  exalted  view  of  the  superior  position 
occupied  by  man  in  nature;  hence  he  introduces 
the  woman  for  the  purpose  of  securing  an  associate 
worthy  of  man,  but  the  associate  alas!  helps  to  bring 
about  man's  fall  from  divine  favour. 

Interested  as  the  compiler  is  in  all  origins,  he  at- 
taches to  the  account  of  the  creation  of  woman  the 
explanation  for  the  marriage  tie  which  binds  man 
and  woman  to  such  an  extent  as  to  prompt  him 
even  to  give  up  parental  ties  in  order  to  establish 
a  household  of  his  own  in  association  with  the  woman 
of  his  choice.  The  pessimistic  note  is  unmistak- 
ably struck  in  the  third  chapter  in  the  remarkable 
story  of  the  temptation  and  fall.  In  addition  to 
the  original  purport  of  the  story  to  explain  the  pres- 
ence of  death  in  the  world,2  it  furnishes  for  our 
compiler  the  medium  for  explaining  why  man,  orig- 
inally placed  on  earth  by  a  beneficent  Deity  who 
provided  everything  for  him,  is  now  forced  to  work 
in  the  sweat  of  his  brow  throughout  his  life  until, 
exhausted  with  toil,  he  lies  down  to  eternal  rest  in 
the  ground  whence  he  was  taken.  Work,  according 
to  this  writer,  is  the  curse  put  upon  man  through 
disobedience,  while  the  woman's  fate  is  painted  in 
even  gloomier  colours.  She  will  be  under  the  con- 
trol of  her  husband,  at  the  mercy  of  his  pleasure  and 
his  passion,  and  be  obliged  to  endure  the  throes  and 

1  See  an  article  by  the  writer  on  "Adam  and  Eve  in  Babylonian  Lit- 
erature," in  the  American  Journal  of  Semitic  Languages,  vol.  XV,  pp. 
193-214. 

2  See  above,  p.  53. 


ACCOUNTS  OF  CREATION  103 

pains  of  childbirth.  Work  and  suffering  are  to  be 
the  fate  of  mankind.  This  gloomy  and  pessimistic 
outlook  is  continued  in  the  succeeding  chapters,  par- 
ticularly in  the  account  of  the  Deluge,  which  is 
brought  on  through  the  growing  wickedness  of  man- 
kind; and  even  when,  after  the  Deluge,  God  prom- 
ises not  to  bring  on  another  catastrophe,  the  reason 
assigned  for  the  resolve  is  that  it  is  not  worth  while 
to  curse  the  entire  earth  for  the  sake  of  man,  since 
"the  inclination  of  his  heart  is  towards  evil."  1  God 
repents  having  made  man,  and  therefore  encompasses 
his  destruction.  The  righteous  is  saved  and  a  new 
race  created,  but  without  any  hope  of  permanent 
improvement. 

It  will  be  evident  from  this  brief  survey  that  this 
second  version  of  Creation  has  few  points  in  com- 
mon with  any  of  the  Babylonian  versions  discussed. 
Not  only  is  there  no  chaos  at  the  beginning  of  things 
and  no  conflict  between  the  lower  and  higher  order, 
but  there  is  a  total  absence  of  any  element  that 
might  be  called  mythical.  The  version,  so  far  as 
preserved,  is  a  very  sober  and  rather  prosaic  record 
of  the  way  in  which  vegetation  arose,  why  man  was 
created,  how  the  beasts  were  created  and  named; 
and  in  all  this  the  main  purpose  of  the  writer  is 
evidently  philosophical  and  religious,  with  the  story 
itself  merely  as  a  framework.  The  point  of  view 
is  of  a  remarkably  advanced  type,  and  it  is  fair  to 
presume  that  this  account  represents  the  science  of 
the  day  rather  than  the  remnants  of  popular  tradi- 
1  Gen.  8:21. 


104    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

tion.  Even  the  touch  which  might  suggest  a  more 
primitive  form  of  thought,  according  to  which  man 
is  formed  out  of  the  dust  of  the  earth  and  the  breath 
of  life  breathed  into  his  nostrils,  is  primitive  only 
in  so  far  as  it  assumes  the  material  substance  of 
man  to  be  the  same  as  that  found  in  the  earth;  and 
yet  the  endeavour  to  trace  back  all  things  in  and  on 
the  earth  to  the  earth  itself  takes  us  into  a  realm 
of  thought  considerably  removed  from  naive  and 
primitive  speculation. 

The  case  is  quite  different  when  we  come  to  con- 
sider the  version  of  Creation  in  the  first  chapter  of 
Genesis  and  extending  through  the  third  verse  of 
the  second  chapter.  This  account,  according  to  the 
modern  analysis,  forms  part  of  a  large  compilation 
conveniently  known  as  the  Priestly  Code,  in  which 
in  a  framework  of  history  and  law  things  are  traced 
back  to  their  beginnings.  In  its  present  form  the 
account  in  the  Priestly  Code  must  be  later  than  the 
second  version,  and  yet  in  a  comparison  of  the  two 
the  second  stands  on  a  higher  plane  of  thought  and 
has  also  a  decidedly  more  rationalistic  tinge.  The 
purpose  of  the  compiler  or  compilers  of  the  Priestly 
Code  in  beginning  the  history  of  Israel  with  the  crea- 
tion of  the  world  was  twofold.  In  the  first  place, 
it  was  prompted  by  the  natural  desire  to  trace  his- 
tory back  as  far  as  possible,  and,  secondly,  to  show 
the  workings  of  the  great  Power  of  the  universe  from 
the  beginning  of  time,  indicating  through  incidental 
references  the  special  concern  of  this  divine  Power 
for  the  fate  of  the  Hebrews  as  the  chosen  people. 


ACCOUNTS  OF  CREATION  105 

In  the  second  version  there  is  no  trace  of  this  na- 
tionalistic view  but  the  Priestly  Code,  having  as  its 
starting-point  the  special  place  assigned  to  the  peo- 
ple of  Yahweh  in  the  universe,  the  origin  of  the  Sab- 
bath as  a  distinctly  Hebrew  institution  is  attached 
to  the  work  of  creation.  God  Himself  institutes  the 
seventh  day  as  a  day  of  rest,  and  the  compiler  does 
not  shrink  from  the  anthropomorphic  implication 
in  representing  the  Creator  of  the  universe  as  rest- 
ing from  his  labours  precisely  as  a  man  might.  He 
is  concerned  with  the  justification  of  the  central 
institution  of  Judaism. 

It  may  seem  strange  at  first  sight,  therefore,  that 
this  narrative  should  be  the  one  which  contains  many 
points  of  resemblance  to  the  main  type  of  the  Baby- 
lonian creation  stories.  One  would  have  supposed 
that  a  compiler  so  saturated  with  the  monotheistic 
Jewish  spirit  would  have  taken  care  to  remove  from 
his  account  of  Creation  all  traces  that  seemed  to 
be  non-Jewish  in  character.  That  he  did  not  see 
fit  to  do  so  may  be  taken  as  a  proof  of  the  popu- 
larity assumed  by  the  tradition  embodied  in  the 
first  chapter,  and  also  as  an  indication  that  the 
compiler  himself  could  not,  or  did  not  wish  to  cut 
himself  loose  from  popular  traditions,  but  on  the 
contrary  desired  to  use  them  in  illustration  of  his 
conception  of  divine  government.  The  story  of 
Creation,  in  other  words,  becomes  in  the  mind  of 
this  compiler  a  kind  of  parable,  told  not  so  much 
because  it  furnishes  an  account  of  the  successive 
creative  acts,  but  because  it  illustrates  the  manner 


106    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

in  which  all  manifestations  of  the  universe,  includ- 
ing life  in  its  various  forms,  go  back  to  the  one 
cause — the  'Word'  of  Elohim.  This  emphasis  in 
the  case  of  each  creative  act  upon  the  power  of  the 
'Word/  which  when  uttered  brings  about  the  Crea- 
tion itself,  is  the  key-note  to  the  chapter.  Bearing 
this  in  mind,  let  us  proceed  to  a  closer  analysis  with 
a  view  of  ascertaining  exactly  wherein  the  resem- 
blance to  Babylonian  Creation  myths  lies. 

At  the  very  beginning  of  this  account  we  have 
perhaps  the  most  striking  evidence  of  the  ultimate 
identity  of  the  Hebrew  and  Babylonian  Creation 
traditions,  for  in  the  statement  that  the  earth  was 
Tohu  and  Bohu  ("void  and  waste")  and  that  dark- 
ness was  over  the  face  of  the  deep  (Tehom),  we 
have  the  Hebrew  counterpart  to  the  Babylonian  de- 
scription of  primeval  chaos.  At  the  same  time  the 
description  furnishes  the  evidence  for  the  thesis  that 
in  the  biblical  account  the  mythical  element  has 
been  reduced  to  the  utmost  possible  minimum. 
This  is  indicated  by  the  use  of  the  terms  Tohu  and 
Bohu  in  place  of  personifications  like  Apsu  and 
Mummu,  and  more  particularly  in  the  entirely  im- 
personal use  of  the  term  "Tehom"  in  the  sense  of 
"watery  deep,"  as  against  the  personification  of  the 
primeval  waters  as  Tiamat,  and  this  despite  the 
fact  that  the  Hebrew  version  still  uses  the  very 
same  term,  "Tehom,"  as  the  Babylonian.1 


1  On  the  identity  of  Tehom  and  Tiamat,  which  is  an  amplified  form  of 
tamtu,  "sea,"  see  Skinner's  Genesis,  p.  16,  note  2;  or  Driver's  Genesis,  p. 
28. 


ACCOUNTS  OF  CREATION  107 

There  are  traces  elsewhere  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment that  Tehom  was  once  personified,  though  the 
personification  became,  in  the  advanced  Hebrew 
thought,  merely  a  poetical  metaphor.  In  the  beauti- 
ful twenty-eighth  chapter  of  Job,  where  man's  search 
for  wisdom  is  so  impressively  described,  we  read: 
"But  wisdom, — where  may  she  be  found,  and  where 
is  the  place  of  understanding?  Man  does  not  know 
her  way  and  she  is  not  found  in  the  land  of  the 
living;  Tehom  says,  'She  is  not  in  me/  and  the 
sea  says,  'Not  with  me.'"  Further  on  we  read: 
"Abaddon1  and  death  say,  'We  have  heard  a  rumor 
about  her:  God  understands  her  way  and  He  knows 
her  place. '"  Elsewhere,  as  in  the  104th  Psalm  as 
well  as  in  the  various  references  to  Rahab  and  the 
Leviathan  and  the  dragon,  particularly  in  Isaiah 
and  Job,2  we  have  the  further  proof  that  the  He- 
brews were  well  acquainted  with  the  nature-myth 
in  its  more  primitive  form,  for  such  figures  as  Rahab 
and  Leviathan  pictured  as  huge  serpents  are  merely 
the  reflections,  in  the  form  of  poetical  metaphors,  of 
the  original  personification  of  primeval  chaos  as  a 
period  in  which  monstrous  beings  were  in  control. 

V 

It  is  worth  while  to  consider  some  of  these  refer- 
ences to  the  nature-myth  which  will  furnish  the 
point  for  the  thesis  here  maintained   that  in  the 

1  "Destruction,"  a  name  for  the  nether  world,  where  the  dead  are  hud- 
dled together.     See  chapter  IV. 

2  See  Gunkel,  Schopfung  und  Chaos,  pp.  29-111. 


108    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

Priestly  Code  the  mythical  element  was  intention- 
ally suppressed  or,  as  it  may  also  be  put,  the  crea- 
tion of  the  world  by  a  spiritual  Being,  universal  in 
scope  and  acting  by  the  power  of  His  word,  being 
incompatible  with  the  representation  of  Creation  as 
a  mere  change  in  seasons  pictured  as  a  conflict  against 
a  monster — the  symbol  of  primeval  chaos  and  law- 
lessness— the  natural  result  would  be  to  retain  only 
that  modicum  of  the  old  nature-myth  essential  to 
the  account  of  the  order  of  Creation.  The  pictures, 
however,  drawn  of  primeval  monsters  in  poetical 
passages  in  various  parts  of  the  Old  Testament,  and 
the  frequency  with  which  these  pictures  are  intro- 
duced, show  not  only  that  the  Hebrews  knew  of 
these  nature-myths,  but  that  the  one  symbolising  the 
change  from  the  rainy  to  the  dry  season — applicable 
to  Palestine  as  well  as  to  the  Euphrates  Valley, 
though  not  in  the  same  degree — had  sunk  so  deep 
into  the  popular  mind  as  to  leave  its  traces  in  the 
literature  of  the  postexilic  period  down  across  the 
threshold  of  our  era.  When  Job,  in  one  of  his 
descriptions1  of  the  divine  Power  which  lay  so 
heavily  on  him  in  his  unbearable  sufferings,  ex- 
claims: 

"  By  His  power  he  has  quieted  the  sea, 
With  his  intelligence  shattered  Rahab. 
The  bolts  of  heaven  are  in  terror  before  Him;2 
His  hand  has  crushed  the  winding3  serpent," 

*Job  26:  12-13. 

2  So  the  Greek  rendering  of  this  line,  the  Hebrew  text  of  which  is 
corrupt. 

3  On  this  translation,  see  Gunkel,  Schopfung  und  Chaos,  p.  47. 


ACCOUNTS  OF  CREATION  109 

there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  philosophical  poet 
has  in  mind  the  picture  of  a  Tiamat,  a  great  mon- 
strous serpent,  suggested,  as  we  have  seen,  by  the 
billows  of  the  agitated  sea.  Rahab  represents  one 
of  the  names  of  this  monster  and  the  parallelism 
with  "sea"  leaves  no  doubt  as  to  the  character  of 
the  personification.  The  lines  imply  a  conflict  with 
Rahab  in  which  God  is  triumphant.  By  His  power 
He  subdues  the  monster,  just  as  Marduk  vanquishes 
Tiamat;  and  we  have  a  further  reminder  of  the 
Babylonian  myth  in  the  reference  to  the  bolts  of 
heaven  which,  it  will  be  recalled,  Marduk  attaches 
to  the  gates  established  at  either  side  of  the  heav- 
enly expanse,  and  at  which  he  places  watchmen  as 
guards.  In  another  speech  of  Job,1  portraying  the 
irresistible  force  of  God's  anger,  the  "helpers  of 
Rahab"  are  described  as  "bent"  under  the  divine 
wrath,  a  definite  indication  that  among  the  Hebrews, 
as  among  the  Babylonians,  Rahab-Tiamat  was  rep- 
resented as  having  an  army  of  monsters  to  assist 
her,  and  which  Marduk  captures  after  he  has  over- 
come Tiamat.  Even  more  explicit  is  a  passage  in 
a  late  chapter  of  the  postexilic  portion  of  Isaiah2 
in  the  reference  to  Rahab  as  a  being  that  belongs 
to  primeval  days,  to  the  very  beginning  of  time. 
Calling  upon  the  people  to  place  their  trust  in  Yah- 
weh  as  the  supreme  vanquisher  of  all  foes,  however 
numerous  and  strong,  the  Prophet  calls  upon  God 
Himself  to  manifest  His  power  as  at  the  time  when 
He  overcame  Rahab. 

1  Job  9  :  13.  *Isa.  51  :  9. 


110    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

"Awake,  awake!  gird  on  strength,  O  arm  of  Yahweh! 
Awake  as  in  the  days  of  Beginning,1  the  generations  of  distant 

times! 
Art  not  thou  the  one  who  didst  shatter  Rahab,  crushing  the 

dragon  ? " 

The  picture  here  forms  a  complete  analogy  to  the 
Babylonian  myth — even  to  the  conception  of  Rahab 
as  a  dragon.  Similarly  in  Psalm  89  :  11,  in  a  de- 
scription of  Yahweh's  power  in  quieting  the  billows 
of  the  angry  sea,  the  same  reference  to  the  con- 
quest of  Rahab  is  introduced  as  a  metaphor;  and 
it  is  only  a  further  and  natural  step  in  poetical 
imagery  to  apply  Rahab  to  Egypt  as  is  done  in 
Psalm  87  :  4  and  Isa.  30  :  7,2  for  Egypt,  like  Baby- 
lon with  which  it  is  placed  in  juxtaposition  in  the 
former  passage,  is  a  huge  monster  in  comparison 
with  the  small  and  puny  Israel,  but  Yahweh — so 
poet  and  Prophet  assume — will  stand  up  against 
Egypt,  just  as  He  quelled  the  uprising  of  Rahab  in 
primeval  days.  In  the  course  of  time  the  term 
loses  its  original  force  of  a  proper  name,  as  Tehom 
lost  it,  and  Rahab  becomes  a  poetical  synonym  for 
wickedness,  violence,  and  hostility  to  Yahweh's 
kingdom  of  justice  and  order.  It  is  so  used  in 
Psalm  40  :  5,  which  is  to  be  rendered  as  follows: 

"Happy  the  man  who  makes  Yahweh  his  trust, 
And  turns  not  to  the  Rahabs3  and  to  lying  rebels." 

1  So  the  literal  translation  of  Hebrew  phrase. 

2  The  ordinary  rendering  of  the  close  of  this  verse  is  senseless.  By  a 
very  simple  procedure,  Gunkel  (p.  39)  obtains  the  reading  "the  silenced 
Rahab,"  i.  <?.,  the  monster  who  has  been  overcome  and  made  harmless. 

3  The  plural  form  is  used — a  further  indication  of  the  disassociation 
from  its  original  personification. 


ACCOUNTS  OF  CREATION  111 

Corresponding  to  the  various  names  for  the  mon- 
sters associated  with  primeval  chaos  that  we  en- 
counter in  the  Babylonian  myth  of  Creation — 
Tiamat,  Ummu-khubur,  Kingu,  besides  Apsu  and 
Mummu — due,  as  has  been  suggested,  to  the  com- 
bination of  various  versions  to  form  the  great  Mar- 
duk  epic — we  have  in  Hebrew  poetry,  by  the  side 
of  Rahab,  other  designations  conveying  the  same 
picture.  Prominent  among  these  is  Leviathan,  oc- 
curring likewise  in  Psalms,  in  a  prophetical  utter- 
ance embodied  in  Isaiah,  but  which  belongs  to 
the  postexilic  period,1  and  more  particularly  in 
Job. 

The  74th  Psalm  reveals  its  origin  in  the  Macca- 
bean  period — perhaps  just  before  the  uprising — in 
so  unmistakable  a  manner  that  scholars  are  prac- 
tically agreed  in  assigning  it  to  about  165  B.  C. 
It  is,  therefore,  of  special  significance  to  find  in  so 
late  a  production  a  poetical  metaphor  introduced 
which  would  be  unintelligible  without  the  assump- 
tion that  the  imagery  is  based  on  a  pure  nature- 
myth,  and  evidently  the  same  myth  that  underlies 
the  references  to  Rahab — a  conflict  in  primeval 
days  between  Yahweh  and  a  huge  monster.  After 
describing  the  desolation  wrought  by  the  enemy — 
the  Greek  supremacy — the  defilement  of  the  sanc- 
tuary, the  burning  of  synagogues  throughout  the 
land,  and  lamenting  the  absence  of  prophets  and 
of  signs  indicative  of  any  relief,  the  psalmist  ap- 
peals to  God:2 

1  Chapter  27.     See  Duhm's  Iesaias,  p.  165.  2  Verses  12-17. 


112    HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

"Thou,  O  Yahweh,  art  my  king  from  of  old, 
Working  salvation  in  the  midst  of  the  earth. 
Thou  hast  divided  the  sea  with  thy  arm, 
Thou  has  broken  the  heads  of  the  dragons  in  the  waters. 
Thou  hast  crushed  the  heads  of  Leviathan, 
Gavest  him  as  food  for1  .  .  . 
Thou  hast  split  fountain  and  brook, 
Thou  hast  dried  up  the  streams  of  primeval  time. 
Thine  is  the  day,  aye  thine  is  the  night. 
Thou  hast  fixed  the  moon  and  sun, 
Thou  hast  set  all  the  bounds  of  the  earth. 
Summer  and  winter  thou  hast  formed." 

The  entire  description  is  evidently  a  reminiscence 
of  the  work  of  creation,  though  the  poet  avails 
himself  of  his  licence  in  deviating  somewhat  from 
the  conventional  order  set  forth  in  the  first  chapter 
of  Genesis.  The  creation  of  day  and  night,  the 
work  of  the  second  day,  is  followed  in  a  logical 
sequence  by  the  reference  to  the  creation  of  moon 
and  sun,2 — the  work  of  the  fourth  day.  This  in 
turn  leads  to  an  allusion  to  the  limits  set  to  the  dry 
land  which  forms  part  of  the  work  of  the  third  day. 
The  reference  to  the  two  seasons  resulting  from  the 
establishment  of  order  and  law  in  the  universe  re- 
veals the  substratum  of  myth  in  the  description, 
for  it  will  be  recalled  that  the  Creation  epic  is  based 
on  the  change  from  the  wintry  and  rainy  to  the 
dry  and  warm  season.     We  are  therefore  justified 

1  The  text  is  corrupt.  The  ordinary  rendering,  "for  the  people  of  the 
wilderness,"  is  without  sense. 

2  The  precedence  of  moon  over  sun  reminds  us  of  the  order  in  Baby- 
lonian-Assyrian texts,  where  under  the  influence  of  astrological  notions 
the  moon-god,  Sin,  is  invariably  placed  before  Shamash,  the  sun-god. 
See  Jastrow,  Religion  Babyloniens  und  Assyriens,  II,  p.  457.  Poetic 
usage  follows  archaic  traditions. 


ACCOUNTS  OF  CREATION  113 

in  interpreting  verses  13-14  as  a  reminiscence  of 
the  very  first  work  of  creation — the  conquest  of 
the  great  monster  and  of  her  numerous  brood.  The 
dragons  in  the  waters  represent  the  army  of  Tia- 
mat,  while  Leviathan — here  described  as  a  many- 
headed  Hydra — is  clearly  synonymous  with  Tiamat 
herself.  Poetic  licence  leads  the  poet  to  introduce 
in  verse  15  the  description  of  Yahweh's  power  in 
causing  springs  to  gush  forth,  brooks  alternately  to 
stream  with  water  and  to  be  dried  up.1  Isaiah  uses 
the  old  nature-myth  in  apocalyptic  fashion2  to  fore- 
tell the  coming  destruction  of  the  enemies  of  Israel. 
Leviathan,  like  Rahab,3  becomes  a  symbol  of  a  pow- 
erful nation — Egypt,  Babylon  or  Assyria,  as  the 
case  may  be.  The  myth  is  introduced  as  a  mere 
metaphor,  and  the  Prophet,  having  in  mind  three 
powerful  enemies,  has  no  scruples  in  suggesting  three 
monsters  instead  of  one. 

"On  that  day  Yahweh  will  visit  with  his  sword  the  cruel,  the 
mighty  and  the  powerful,4 — Leviathan,  the  winding5  serpent,  and 
Leviathan,  the  twisted  serpent,  and  he  shall  kill  the  dragon  in  the 
sea." 

The  winding  and  the  twisted  serpent  and  the  dragon 
in  the  sea  are  identical — variant  descriptions  of  the 
great  monster  Tiamat. 

1  The  reference  might  also  be  to  "the  fountains  of  the  deep"  (tehom) 
which,  when  they  are  "split  open"  (Gen.  7  :  11),  cause  the  destructive 
Deluge. 

2  I  follow  Gunkel's  interpretation  (Schopfung  und  Chaos,  pp.  45  seq) 

3  Above,  pp.  109  seq. 

4  Corresponding  to  these  three  terms  we  have  three  serpents — two 
Leviathans  and  a  dragon. 

5  The  same  attribute  as  above,  p.  108. 


114    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

We  must  turn,  however,  to  the  magnificent  for- 
tieth and  forty-first  chapters  of  Job  to  learn  the 
extent  to  which  poetic  fancy  went  among  the  He- 
brews in  picturing  the  primeval  monster  whom 
Yahweh  alone  was  able  to  subdue.  To  illustrate 
the  weakness  of  man  in  contrast  with  the  Deity,  and 
therefore  the  folly  of  man  to  question  God's  ways,1 
the  poet  asks:2 

"Canst  thou  draw  Leviathan  out  with  a  hook? 
And  with  a  cord  fasten  his  tongue? 
Canst  thou  put  a  hook  in  his  nose? 
Or  bore  his  jaw  with  a  ring? 
Will  he  make  supplication  to  thee? 
Or  speak  soft  words  to  thee  ? 
Will  he  make  a  covenant  with  thee? 
So  that  thou  takest  him  for  a  servant  forever? 
Wilt  thou  play  with  him  as  with  a  bird? 
Or  tie  him  like  a  dove  for  a  child  ? 3 

Canst  thou  fill  his  skin  with  spears? 
Or  his  head  with  fish  spears? 

Just  lay  thy  hand  upon  him  and  thou  wilt  not  think 
of  a  battle  (with  him)  again!" 

Yahweh  alone  can  deal  with  Leviathan.  He  can 
overcome  him — catch  him  as  one  hooks  a  fish,  use 
him  as  a  toy,4  as  one  plays  with  a  pet  bird.  All 
this  is  poetic  fancy,  but  the  nature-myth  runs 
through  the  lines  and  is  manifest  in  the  reference 

1  The  chapter  belongs  to  the  supplementary  portion  of  the  book  of 
Job. 

2  Chapter  40  :  25-32;   in  the  English  version,  chapter  41  :  1-8. 

3 1  follow  Gunkel's  (p.  50,  note  2)  ingenious  and  simple  emendation 
of  the  text. 

4  Cf.  Psalm  104  :  26,  "Leviathan  whom  thou  hast  formed  as  a  play- 
thing"— so  the  correct  rendering. 


ACCOUNTS  OF   CREATION  115 

to  Leviathan's  appeal  for  mercy  to  the  powerful 
Yahweh  who  has  captured  him,  as  Marduk  caught 
Tiamat  and  made  her  subservient  to  his  wishes. 
The  further  description  of  the  monster,  strong  of 
fangs  (41  :  6),  raising  himself  up  to  a  great  height 
(41  :  17),  to  whom  iron  is  as  straw  (41  :  19),  sug- 
gests in  various  ways  the  description  of  the  brood 
of  monsters  who  constitute  the  army  of  Tiamat, 
though  touches  are  added,  such  as  the  flames  issu- 
ing from  his  mouth  (41  :  12-13),  which  appear  to 
be  original  creations  of  the  Hebrew  poet  who  allows 
his  fancy  free  flight.  In  the  description  of  the  huge 
monster  Behemoth  in  chapter  40,  though  the  poet 
probably  has  in  mind  the  hippopotamus,  there  are 
allusions  which  suggest  an  association  with  Levia- 
than; and  it  may  be  that  Behemoth  is  also  a  des- 
ignation for  the  primeval  dragon,  symbolising  the 
chaos  at  the  beginning  of  time.  The  huge  size  of 
both  Leviathan  and  Behemoth  reminds  one  of  the 
description  of  the  dragon  in  one  of  the  Babylonian 
versions  above  discussed.1  Be  this  as  it  may,  enough 
evidence  has  been  brought  forward  to  show  that  up 
to  a  late  period  the  Hebrews  were  perfectly  famil- 
iar with  the  old  nature-myth  of  the  conflict  with 
the  monster  Tiamat,  or  whatever  name  we  choose 
to  apply  to  it;  and  it  is  also  a  justifiable  conclusion 
that  what  has  become  a  metaphor  in  Hebrew  poetry 
was  once  popularly  regarded  as  an  actual  occurrence, 
to  account  for  the  existence  of  law  and  order  in  the 
world  in  place  of  primeval  chaos  and  lawlessness. 

1  Above,  pp.  93  seq. 


116    HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 


VI 

Coming  back  now  after  this  somewhat  long  di- 
gression to  the  first  chapter  in  Genesis,  we  find  that 
here  even  the  metaphor  has  disappeared  as  incom- 
patible with   an   account  of  Creation  by  a  purely 
spiritual  Power,  whose  word  alone  suffices  to  bring 
about  the  desired  result.     No  conflict  is  required. 
Indeed,  the  suggestion  of  a  conflict  would  mark  a 
limitation  to  the  supreme  majesty  of  the  divine  com- 
mand.    Hence  the   addition  to  the  description  of 
primeval  chaos,  in  the  second  verse  of  the  first  chap- 
ter, of  the  words  "and  the  spirit  of  Elohim  brooded 
over  the  face  of  the  waters,"  which  dispose  briefly 
but  effectively  of  the  entire  conception  of  any  con- 
flict at  the  beginning  of  time.     In  place  of  the  con- 
flict we  have  the  picture  of  the  divine  afflatus  hov- 
ering over  the  watery  mass.     We  need  not  stop  in 
an  attempt  to  specify  the  picture  that  the  compiler 
had  in  mind.     The  vagueness  is  inherent,  the  evi- 
dent aim  being  to  remove  all  traces  of  any  material- 
istic conceptions  of  divine  Power.     The  limitations 
of  human  language  are  particularly  apparent  when 
we  endeavour  to  describe  the  beginning  of  things, 
but  it  is  difficult  to  imagine  a  more  profound  and 
at  the  same  time  a  more  sublime  description  of  such 
a  beginning  than  is  suggested  in  the  simple  phrase, 
"The  spirit  of  Elohim  brooded  over  the  face  of  the 
waters."     Throughout   the   chapter,   in   accordance 
with  this  high  plane  of  spiritualised  religious  thought, 


ACCOUNTS  OF  CREATION  117 

the  source  of  all  creation  is  concentrated  in  the  di- 
vine command.  The  Deity  in  the  Hebrew  story  is 
not  an  artificer  who  by  a  process  of  work  gradually 
brings  things  into  being;  He  is  one  whose  word  im- 
mediately produces  the  result.  Fiat  lux!  God  said 
— "Light  be,  and  light  was." 

In  this  creation  of  light  as  the  result  of  the  first 
utterance  of  God  we  may,  I  think,  see  a  direct  pro- 
test against  the  Babylonian  version  which  makes 
some  particular  personification  of  nature — the  water- 
god,  Ea;  the  storm-god,  Enlil;  or,  in  the  latest  ver- 
sion, Marduk,  the  sun-god — the  creator  of  everything. 
The  sun  being  recognised  throughout  antiquity  as 
the  source  of  light,  Marduk  himself  is  the  light. 
The  Hebrew  poet,  reflecting  the  view  of  the  Proph- 
ets to  whom  God  is  the  supreme  spiritual  power 
rising  above  the  universe,  makes  the  light  a  part 
of  His  Creation.  Fiat  lux  represents  the  protest 
against  the  assumption  that  a  power  which  itself 
represents  the  light  can  be  the  source  of  being. 
There  is  One  superior  even  to  the  light  by  whom 
light  must  be  first  created.  We  find  a  trace  again 
of  earlier  conceptions,  recalling  the  description  of 
Marduk's  making  a  covering  out  of  one  side  of  Tia- 
mat  stretched  across  the  heavens  to  prevent  the 
upper  waters  from  flowing  out,  in  the  biblical  de- 
scription of  an  expanse  (rekia  )  to  separate  the  waters 
below  from  the  stars  above.  The  expanse,  which 
evidently  is  still  conceived  as  a  material  substance, 
is  called  "heaven."  Similarly,  we  have  another 
direct  trace  of  the  common  origin  of  the  Hebrew 


118    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

and  Babylonian  traditions  in  the  conception  that 
the  gathering  of  the  waters  below  the  heavens  to 
one  place  reveals  the  dry  land.  The  earth  is  there- 
fore assumed  as  in  existence,  merely  submerged 
through  the  waters  abounding  everywhere.  When, 
therefore,  we  read,  "Elohim  said,  Let  the  waters 
under  the  heaven  be  gathered  to  one  place  so  that  the 
dry  land  may  appear,  and  it  was  so,"  we  must 
admit  the  parallelism  with  one  of  the  versions  of 
the  Babylonian  stories,  in  which  it  will  be  recalled 
the  gathering  of  the  waters  into  a  channel  results 
in  the  appearance  of  terra  firma.1 

The  vegetation  of  the  earth  follows  in  the  biblical 
account  as  a  natural  consequence  of  the  gathering 
of  the  waters.  The  thought  is  here,  as  I  have  al- 
ready indicated,  on  a  higher  plane  than  that  which 
we  find  in  the  second  chapter  according  to  which 
the  earth  existed  in  a  barren  state  until  it  was 
soaked  through  moisture  and  until  man  came  to 
cultivate  it. 

In  the  account  of  the  creation  of  the  great  bodies 
in  the  heavens,  the  sun  and  moon,  and  to  which  a 
later  commentator  added  the  stars,  we  have  a  most 
suggestive  parallel  with  Marduk's  regulation  of  the 
movements  of  the  heavenly  bodies  after  his  victory 
over  Tiamat,  and  of  which  we  have  encountered  a 
reminiscence  in  a  description  of  the  conflict  with  the 
Leviathan.2  As  in  the  Babylonian  account,  the  pur- 
pose of  the  lights  in  the  heavens  is  to  regulate  time 
and  seasons,  or,  in  other  words,  to  furnish  a  basis 

1  Above,  p.  89.  2  Above,  pp.  113  seq. 


ACCOUNTS  OF  CREATION  119 

for  the  calendar.     But  whereas  in  the  Babylonian 
version  we  find  the  moon  placed  in  supreme  con- 
trol, time  being  calculated  according  to  its  phases, 
in  the  biblical  version  emphasis  is  laid  upon  the  two 
lights,  the  greater  one  for  the  control  of  day,  and 
the  lesser  one  for  the  control  of  night.     The  cir- 
cumstance that  Marduk  was  in  reality  a  personi- 
fication of  the  sun  necessarily  hampered  the  Baby- 
lonian  priests   in    their    endeavour   to    explain    the 
existence  of  movements  in  the  heavens.     Under  the 
sway  of  astral  theology  the  moon,  planets,  and  stars 
constituted  the  main  occupants  of  the  heavens,  and, 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  in  the  astrological  texts  of  the 
Babylonian    and    Assyrian    priests    the    moon    and 
planets   play   a   very    much    more   important   part 
than  the  sun,  which  is  invariably,  in  any  enumera- 
tion, placed  after  the   moon.1     The   Hebrew   com- 
pilers, freed  from  the  shackles  of  astral  conceptions 
of  the  universe,  and  assuming  at  the  head  of  the  uni- 
verse a  spiritual  power  superior  to  the  sun  and  to 
the  light  of  which  the  sun  is  regarded  as  a  symbol, 
placed  sun  and   moon  precisely  in  the  same  cate- 
gory.    It  may  be  that  in  the  term  "as  signs"  (verse 
14),  in  connection  with  sun  and  moon,  there  is  a 
trace  of  the  observance  of  the  heavenly  bodies  to 
obtain  "omens,"  which  would  point  to  the  influ- 
ence of  the  astral  theology  of  Babylonia  and  As- 
syria, but  through  the  addition  of  "and  for  seasons, 
days  and  years"  the  calendrical  purpose  served  by 

1  See  Jastrow,  Religion  Babyloniens  und  Assyriens,  II,  p.  457-     See  a 
trace  of  the  same  order  in  Hebrew  poetry;  above,  p.  112,  note  2. 


120    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

the  sun  and  moon  is  emphasised — perhaps  with  in- 
tent to  remove  the  possible  implication  of  astrology 
in  the  use  of  the  two  heavenly  bodies  as  "signs." 

The  question  has  often  been  asked,  Is  there  not  a 
strange  inconsistency  in  the  biblical  story  in  assum- 
ing the  creation  of  light  at  the  very  beginning  of 
time  as  the  work  of  the  first  day,  whereas  the  sun 
is  not  called  into  being  until  the  fourth  day?  The 
question,  it  seems  to  me,  is  an  idle  one  and  misses 
the  point  of  the  biblical  poem.  No  doubt  the  com- 
pilers of  Genesis  knew  as  well  as  we  do  that  the  illu- 
mination of  the  earth  is  due  to  the  sun;  common  ex- 
perience would  have  been  sufficient  to  have  made  this 
self-evident.  In  describing  the  work  of  the  fourth 
day,  the  aim  is  rather  to  specify  the  position  ac- 
corded to  the  sun  in  the  regulation  of  material  phe- 
nomena. Standing  under  the  influence  of  the  pop- 
ular tradition,  which  assumed  the  purpose  of  the 
heavenly  bodies  to  be  the  regulation  of  the  calen- 
dar, the  paragraphs  about  the  moon  are  retained, 
but  consistent  with  the  higher  conception  which 
makes  both  sun  and  moon  the  products  of  the  one 
Power  presiding  over  the  universe,  the  older  form  of 
the  tradition  is  essentially  modified. 

The  creation  of  animals  follows,  and  it  is  inter- 
esting to  note  the  order  in  creation:  first,  the  life 
in  the  waters  and  then  the  birds  flying  over  the 
earth  across  the  expanse  of  the  heavens.  There  are 
further  specifications  regarding  these  two  classes  of 
animals,  but  the  creation  of  land  animals  is  not 
mentioned  until  the  work  of  the  sixth  day.     It  is 


ACCOUNTS  OF  CREATION  121 

doubtful  whether  in  the  mind  of  the  compiler  any 
special  significance  was  attached  to  this  division  in 
the   creation   of  animals   or  whether   he    laid    any 
stress  on  the  order — water  animals,  air  animals,  and 
land  animals.     So  far  no  parallel  to  this  order  has 
been   encountered   in   any   of  the   Babylonian   and 
Assyrian  versions,  though  it  is,  of  course,  possible 
that   one   may  yet   be   found.     The   order   follows 
perhaps  a  logical  sequence.     Since  water  and  the 
atmosphere  above  the  waters  are  supposed  to  be 
in  existence  earlier  than  the  land,  the  animals  of  the 
water  and  of  the  air  are  mentioned  first.     It  is,  how- 
ever, of  importance  to  note  that  among  the  life  that 
swarms  in  the  waters,  "the  great  dragons''  are  sin- 
gled out  for  special  mention.     The  word  used  for 
dragons1  is  identical  with  the  term  occurring  in  the 
poetical  allusions  to  the  nature-myth  of  the  con- 
flict between  Yahweh  and  the  great  primeval  mon- 
ster, pictured  as  a  dragon  and  accompanied  by  an 
army  of  dragons.2     The  introduction  of  the  term  is 
hardly  accidental,,  and  I  have  no  hesitation  in  recog- 
nising in  the  specific  mention  of  the  "great  dragons" 
as  the  creation  of  Yahweh,  a  further  protest  against 
the  nature-myth  which  assumed  the  great  dragons, 
including  their  leader  Tiamat  or  Rahab  or  Levia- 
than,  as  pre-existent.     This  is  again,   therefore,  a 
deliberate  effort  to  expunge  the  mythical  element 
which  we  have  seen  to  be  one  of  the  characteristic 
aims  of  the  Creation  version  in  the  Priestly  Code. 

1  Tanninim,  plural  of  tannin.  2  Above,  p.  109. 


122    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 


VII 

So  far,  then,  we  have  encountered  plenty  of  traces 
of  the  existence  among  the  Hebrews  of  the  same 
nature-myth  as  is  revealed  in  the  various  Baby- 
lonian versions  to  account  for  the  creation  of  the 
world,  but  with  the  unmistakable  tendency  in  the 
biblical  versions  to  remove  the  mythical  aspects 
and  to  minimise  this  element  of  myth  when  it  can- 
not be  entirely  eliminated.  The  wide  departure 
from  Babylonian  traditions  is,  however,  particularly 
apparent  in  the  spirit  of  the  transformed  Hebrew 
tradition  which  changes  the  Creator  from  a  van- 
quisher of  hostile  forces,  and  from  an  artificer  after 
the  fashion  of  a  human  workman,  into  a  spiritual 
Power,  acting  by  His  'Word'  alone.  The  Word 
brings  about  light,  the  Word  causes  the  dry  land  to 
appear  and  clothes  the  fields  with  verdure,  the 
Word  brings  forth  trees  and  plants,  and  fills  water, 
air  and  land  with  living  beings.  This  'Word  of 
Yahweh'  is  frequently  introduced  in  the  Prophets 
and  Psalms  to  describe  not  merely  the  power  but 
the  very  essence  of  the  Deity,  conceived  as  a  uni- 
versal Being  and  pictured  as  a  spiritual  force.  To 
be  sure,  in  Babylonian  and  Assyrian  hymns  the 
'word'  of  Enlil,  of  Marduk,  of  Ea,  of  Shamash, 
and  so  through  the  list  of  the  chief  gods  of  the  pan- 
theon, also  plays  a  prominent  part.  Compositions 
bewailing  some  great  catastrophe  that  has  overtaken 
the  land   describe  the  power  residing  in  the  word 


ACCOUNTS  OF  CREATION  123 

of  a  god,  which  causes  heaven  and  earth  to  tremble 
and  spreads  terror  on  all  sides: 

"The  word  that  causes  the  heavens  on  high  to  tremble, 
The  word  that  makes  the  earth  below  to  quake, 
The  word  that  brings  destruction  to  the  Anunnaki,1 
His  word  is  beyond  diviner  and  seer, 
His  word  is  a  tempest  without  a  rival."  2 

The  conception,  however,  remains  on  a  material- 
istic basis,  and  when  applied  to  other  than  storm- 
gods  whose  'word'  is  the  thunder,  it  is  the  actual 
strength  and  power  of  the  god  that  is  meant.  We 
have  a  trace  of  this  conception  of  the  word  in  po- 
etical metaphors  occurring  in  Psalms  such  as  the 
twenty-ninth : 

"The  voice  of  Yahweh  is  upon  the  waters, 
The  God  of  glory  thundered^ 

The  voice  of  Yahweh  is  full  of  power, 
The  voice  of  Yahweh  is  full  of  might. 

The  voice  of  Yahweh  hews  flames  of  fire, 
The  voice  of  Yahweh  shakes  the  wilderness," 

but  the  higher  point  of  view,  marking  the  departure 
from  the  Babylonian  conception,  finds  an  expression 
in  the  scene  of  Elijah  on  the  mount3  where  a  strong 
wind,  a  violent  earthquake  and  fire  passed  before 
the  Prophet.  Yahweh  was  not  in  the  storm,  or  in 
the  earthquake,  or  in  the  fire,  but  manifested  Him- 

1  Above,  p.  91,  note  1. 

2  See  many  other  illustrations  in  Jastrow,  Religion  Babyloniens  und 
Assyriens,  II,  pp.  26  seq.,  and  Zimmern  in  Der  Alte  Orient,  XIII,  1  pp. 
21-27. 

3 1  Kings  19  :  11-12. 


124    HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

self  in  the  "still,  small  voice" — a  decided  contrast, 
therefore,  to  the  "voice  of  Yahweh"  in  the  Psalm 
from  which  we  have  quoted.  The  "thin,  small 
voice"  illustrates  the  endeavour  to  spiritualise  the 
power  of  Yahweh,  an  endeavour  that  finds  its  full 
expression  in  the  Word  of  the  Deity  as  conceived 
by  the  Prophets,  and  of  which  the  Word  that 
creates  the  light,  the  heavenly  bodies  and  the  earth 
and  all  there  is  in  it,  is  a  direct  reflection.  The 
'Word'  of  God  in  the  development  of  Hebrew  religi- 
ous thought  becomes  more  than  a  mere  phrase  or  a 
metaphor;  it  shows  a  tendency  to  become  personi- 
fied, as  though  it  had  an  independent  being,  though 
at  the  same  time  always  identical  with  the  divine 
Power  Himself.  When  in  the  famous  eighth  chapter 
of  the  book  of  Proverbs,  celebrating  the  power  of 
wisdom,  Wisdom  is  similarly  personified  (verse  23): 

"Yahweh  acquired  me  [i.  e.,  Wisdom]  at  the  beginning  of 
his  way,  before  his  works  of  primeval  days. 

I  was  set  up  from  the  very  beginning  of  the  earth  when 
there  were  no  deeps,1 

I  was  produced  when  there  were  no  fountains,2 

I  was  in  honor3  before  the  mountains  were  settled, 

Before  the  hills  I  was  produced, 

Before  yet  he  had  made  the  earth. 

When  he  established  the  heavens,  I  was  there, 

When  he  fixed  a  circle  around  the  face  of  the  deep.4 


1  Tehomot,  the  plural  of  tehom,  originally  the  personification  of  the 
deep,  as  we  have  seen. 

2  The  fountains  of  the  deep  which  feed  the  streams  and  rivers.     See 
the  illustration,  Fig.  I,  in  Schiaparelli's  Astronomy  in  the  Old  Testament. 

3  Conjectural  emendation  of  the  Hebrew  text,  suggested  by  the  par- 
allelism. 

4  Tehom,  as  above. 


ACCOUNTS  OF  CREATION  125 

When  he  gave  a  bound  to  the  sea, 

Beyond  which  its  waters  were  not  to  pass; 

When  he  appointed  the  foundations  of  the  earth, 

I  was  by  him  constantly, 

His  daily  delight, 

Rejoicing  before  him  at  all  times," 

it  is  clear  that  wisdom  is  here  used  almost  as  a  syno- 
nym for  the  divine  'Word,'  which  naturally  is  the 
'word'  of  Wisdom.  The  description  given  of  Crea- 
tion may  be  regarded  as  a  poetical  paraphrase  of 
the  account  of  Creation  in  Genesis.  It  is  based  on 
this  account,  and  Wisdom  thus  associated  with  every 
phase  of  the  work  of  creation,  existing  even  before 
primeval  chaos,  is  the  spirit  of  God  Himself  "brood- 
ing over  the  waters,,,  as  well  as  the  divine  'Word' 
through  which  everything  is  created.  The  three 
terms,  God,  Word,  and  Wisdom,  are  almost  iden- 
tical. Word  and  Wisdom  become  theological  con- 
cepts, endeavours  to  picture  the  workings  of  a  Power 
conceived  entirely  as  a  spiritual  force.  This  per- 
sonification of  wisdom  as  the  companion  of  God  in 
the  work  of  creation,  the  medium  through  which 
the  Divine  transforms  His  desires  into  actions,  is  re- 
flected in  the  twenty-eighth  chapter  of  Job1  to 
which  a  reference  has  already  been  made.  After 
describing  the  hopeless  search  of  man  for  wisdom 
— not  to  be  found  in  the  sea  nor  in  the  depths  nor 

1  Above,  p.  107.  The  chapter  has  no  connection  with  the  book  of  Job, 
and  is  only  loosely  related  to  the  problem  with  which  the  book  deals. 
It  is  an  independent  composition,  a  fragment  perhaps  of  a  larger  dis- 
quisition on  wisdom,  closely  allied  to  the  eighth  and  ninth  chapters  of 
Proverbs.  We  must,  however,  be  grateful  to  the  editor  who  inserted 
the  chapter  on  Job,  and  thus  preserved  for  us  one  of  the  gems  of  ancient 
Hebrew  literature. 


126    HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

in  the  hidden  recesses  of  the  mountains  to  which 
man  penetrates  in  search  of  gold  and  precious  stones 
— the  poet  in  a  sublime  height  of  rapture  exclaims: 

"When  he  fixed  a  bound  to  the  rain, 
And  a  path  for  the  flash  of  the  thunder, 
Then  he  saw  and  celebrated  her. 
He  established  and  searched  her  out, 
And  said  to  man: 

'  Behold  the  fear  of  the  Lord  is  Wisdom1 
Removing  from  evil — Understanding.'  " 

Concomitant,  therefore,  with  the  minimising  of  myth 
in  the  development  of  Hebrew  views  of  Creation, 
we  have  the  process  which  leads  to  the  personifica- 
tion of  the  'Word'  of  God — more  specifically  pic- 
tured as  'Wisdom* — as  the  associate  of  the  Deity 
in  the  work  of  creation.  The  further  growth  of 
this  personification  of  the  Word  or  of  divine  Wis- 
dom leads  to  the  famous  doctrine  of  the  Logos  or 
'Word'  as  set  forth  in  the  writings  of  Philo  of  Al- 
exandria and  which  finds  its  reflection  in  the  open- 
ing words  of  the  Gospel  of  John  that  so  succinctly 
and  admirably  sum  up  the  entire  process  of  thought 
involved : 

"In  the  beginning  was  the  Word  and  the  Word  was  with  God 
and  the  Word  was  God." 

A  comparison  with  the  chapter  from  Proverbs, 
from  which  we  have  quoted,  shows  the  identity  of 
the  'Word'   and   'Wisdom/   for  Wisdom   (like    the 

1  Evidently  a  paraphrase  of  Prov.  9  :  10: 

"The  fear  of  the  Lord  is  the  beginning  of  wisdom, 
And  the  knowledge  of  the  Holy — understanding." 


ACCOUNTS  OF  CREATION  127 

'Word')  was  in  the  beginning;  she  was  "with 
God"  and,  as  we  have  seen,  was  not  to  be  distin- 
guished from  God.  God,  Word,  and  Wisdom  are 
three  in  one.  We  thus  have,  under  the  influence  of 
the  higher  conception  of  divine  government  of  the 
universe  as  voiced  in  the  utterances  of  the  Hebrew 
Prophets,  the  transformation  of  the  'Word'  of 
power  and  strength — such  as  the  'word'  of  the 
Babylonian  and  Assyrian  gods  is,  and  as  the  'Word' 
of  Yahweh  at  an  earlier  stage  of  the  Hebrew  religion 
was — to  the  'Word'  of  wisdom,  the  'Word5  that 
is  'Wisdom';  and  along  with  this  transformation 
the  personification  of  the  Word,  suggested  in  the 
Genesis  account  of  Creation  and  receiving  its  theo- 
logical formula  in  John's  definition  of  the  Logos. 

The  minimising  of  myth — practically  to  the  ex- 
tent of  a  complete  elimination — and  the  enthrone- 
ment of  the  divine  command,  leading  by  a  natural 
process  to  the  personification  of  the  'Word'  of 
God,  are  the  two  features  in  the  account  of  the  five 
days  of  Creation  that  suffice  to  show  the  wide  and 
complete  departure  of  Hebrew  traditions  from  their 
Babylonian  counterparts;  and  it  will,  I  think,  be 
admitted  that  the  departure  is  of  more  significance 
than  the  fact  of  the  common  possession  of  a  nature- 
myth  with  which  both  Hebrews  and  Babylonians 
started  out  and  which  is  still  apparent  in  the  ac- 
count in  Genesis  despite  its  complete  transforma- 
tion. 


128    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 


VIII 

It  is  in  the  work  of  the  sixth  day,  however,  that 
the  biblical  narrative  rises  to  its  greatest  height,  in 
its  account  of  the  creation  of  man  endowed  from 
the  very  beginning  with  the  spirit  of  the  divine 
Creator.  A  greater  contrast  between  the  statement 
in  the  impressive  Hebrew  narrative  of  the  creation 
of  man  in  the  image  of  God,  as  against  the  Baby- 
lonian view  of  man's  being  created  for  the  sake  of 
the  gods,  to  provide  temples  and  worshippers  for 
them,  can  hardly  be  imagined.  The  difference  be- 
tween the  two  points  of  view  represents  the  wide 
gap  between  the  materialistic  conception  of  the  gods 
as  powers  of  nature,  who  by  virtue  of  their  power 
exercise  control  and  who  in  return  demand  homage 
and  tribute  just  as  an  earthly  ruler  does,  as  the 
means  of  securing  favour  and  grace,  and  on  the 
other  hand  the  conception  of  a  Power  expressed 
in  spiritual  terms  who  is  the  ultimate  source  of  all 
life  and  who  gives  to  man  his  special  place  in  nature 
by  imbuing  him  with  an  element  directly  taken 
from  the  divine  source  of  all  life. 

In  the  somewhat  modified  form  given  by  Berosus 
of  the  creation  of  both  man  and  animals  through 
the  mixture  of  the  earth  with  the  blood  of  the  god 
Bel,1  who  had  asked  one  of  the  gods  to  cut  off  his 

1 1,  e.,  as  will  be  recalled,  originally  the  god  Enlil,  of  Nippur,  whose 
traits  are  transferred  to  Marduk,  who  becomes  the  "Bel,"  or  "lord," 
of  the  Babylonian  pantheon. 


ACCOUNTS  OF  CREATION  129 

head,  there  is,  to  be  sure — as  has  been  pointed  out1 
— a  suggestion  of  the  thought  that  human  life,  as 
also  animal  life,  contains  the  same  essence  as  that 
attributed  to  the  gods,  but  the  suggestion  stops  with 
the  very  primitive  notions  associated  with  blood  as 
the  source  of  life.  The  Babylonians  were  unable 
to  conceive  of  life,  as  manifested  in  man  and  in 
animals,  without  blood,  and  accordingly  this  con- 
ception of  blood  as  the  essence  of  life  was  trans- 
ferred to  the  gods. 

In  the  second  biblical  version  there  is  still  a  trace 
of  the  earlier  materialism  in  the  manner  in  which 
Yahweh  Elohim  is  represented  as  taking  the  dust 
of  the  ground  and  breathing  the  breath  of  life  into 
the  nostrils,  in  consequence  of  which  man  became 
"a  living  soul."  It  is  hardly  open  to  question  that 
in  the  narrative  of  the  first  chapter  of  Genesis  all 
traces  of  any  materialistic  aspect  have  been  inten- 
tionally removed,  or,  as  we  ought  rather  to  put  it, 
the  religious  thought  reflected  in  this  chapter  has 
advanced  to  such  a  point  as  instinctively  to  revolt 
against  the  merest  suggestion  of  the  divine  Power 
of  the  universe  working  after  the  manner  of  man, 
just  as  the  entire  narrative  endeavours  to  avoid 
any  suggestion  of  an  anthropomorphic  conception 
of  the  Deity.  It  was  not  necessary  for  the  com- 
piler to  specify  or  even  to  make  perfectly  clear  to 
himself  what  he  meant  by  the  phrase  "in  the 
image  of  God,"  any  more  than  it  was  necessary  or 
perhaps  possible  definitely  to  indicate  the  thought 

1  Above,  p.  85. 


130    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

in  mind  in  describing  the  spirit  of  Elohim  as  "brood- 
ing over  the  face  of  the  waters."  What  he  wishes 
to  bring  out  is  the  special  position  occupied  by  man 
in  the  world  and  to  account  for  man's  wonderful 
power  in  making  nature  subservient  to  him,  in  suc- 
cessfully combating  the  hostile  elements  of  nature, 
in  rearing  great  civilisations — to  account  for  his 
achievements  in  art  and  literature,  in  government 
and  in  thought.  The  aim  of  the  compiler  was  to 
explain  all  this  through  the  infusion  of  the  divine 
spirit  into  man  at  the  time  of  the  creation  of  the 
first  human  pair.  "The  image  of  God"  was  chosen 
as  the  most  appropriate  phrase  to  express  the  idea 
that  there  was  reflected  in  man  the  spirit  of  the 
divine,  just  as  the  "Word"  of  God,  or  "Wisdom," 
came  to  be  chosen  as  the  term  to  convey  a  picture 
of  divine  action. 

To  sum  up,  therefore:  the  biblical  narratives  of 
Creation  in  both  versions  that  have  come  down  to 
us  reflect  the  advanced  stage  to  which  Hebrew 
thought  was  brought  through  the  rise  of  ethical 
monotheism,  and  represent  in  consequence  a  wide 
departure  from  Babylonian  traditions,  which  even 
in  their  most  developed  and  latest  form  remain  on 
the  level  of  nature-myths  and  are  clogged  through 
the  materialistic  view  taken  of  the  powers  of  the 
gods.  The  points  of  resemblance  between  the  He- 
brew and  the  Babylonian  traditions  of  Creation  in- 
dicate that  Hebrew  thought  at  one  time  occupied  the 
same  level  as  that  on  which  Babylonian  civilisation, 
even  at   its   climax,  continued    to   stand.     Accept- 


ACCOUNTS  OF  CREATION  131 

ing  these  points  of  resemblance  as  indications  that 
Hebrew  and  Babylonian  traditions  revert  to  a  com- 
mon source,  and  that  through  the  direct  contact 
between  the  two  peoples  at  an  early  period  even 
the  shape  taken  by  the  tradition  in  Babylonia  in- 
fluenced in  a  considerable  measure  the  Hebrew  forms 
of  the  narrative,  we  are,  it  seems  to  me,  by  virtue 
of  this  admission,  in  a  far  better  position  to  esti- 
mate at  its  real  and  full  value  the  sublime  height 
to  which  particularly  the  biblical  version  in  the  first 
chapter  of  Genesis  rises.  To  treat  this  version  in 
cold,  prosaic  fashion  as  a  quasi-scientific  story  of 
evolution  is  to  close  our  eyes  to  its  beauty  as  a 
poetic  production  and  to  the  depths  of  religious 
and  ethical  thought  which  it  reveals.  I  have  no 
sympathy  with  the  efforts  to  force  the  order  of 
Creation  in  the  biblical  narrative  into  accord  with 
the  results  and  dicta  of  modern  science.  Such  at- 
tempts necessarily  involve  forcing  the  phraseology 
of  the  Hebrew  original  and  reading  views  into  the 
text  for  which  there  is  no  warrant;  and  even  then 
the  attempt  fails.  In  my  opinion,  it  is  an  injustice 
to  the  aim  and  spirit  of  the  narrative  to  look  at  it 
from  the  point  of  view  of  modern  science.  It  is  a 
religious  document,  an  ethical  parable;  and  science 
is  not  religion.  In  its  proper  setting,  the  biblical 
narrative  conveys  a  picture  of  a  spiritual  Power  pre- 
siding over  the  government  of  the  universe — one 
that  for  poetic  impressiveness  and  depth  of  religious 
thought  maintains  its  unique  place.  We  must  look 
upon  the  narrative  as  an  expression  of  the  peculiar 


132    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

type  of  monotheism,  saturated  with  ethical  ideals, 
which  resulted  from  the  teachings  of  the  Prophets. 
Our  thought  should  be  directed  to  the  picture  of  the 
one  great  Power  bringing  the  universe  into  being 
by  His  Word  and  placing  in  nature,  as  the  crown- 
ing point  of  Creation,  man  imbued  with  a  portion 
of  the  same  divine  spirit.  Viewed  in  this  light,  such 
questions  as  are  sometimes  raised  as  to  the  signifi- 
cance of  the  six  days  of  Creation  appear  trivial, 
and  the  attempt  to  convert  the  six  days  into  periods 
trite.  We  ought  to  recognise  once  for  all  that  the 
creation  of  the  world  in  six  days,  or  even  six  periods, 
rests  on  views  that  are  not  compatible  with  modern 
geology  and  biology,  which  start  from  entirely  dif- 
ferent points  of  view.  The  six  days  have  no  more 
real  significance  than  the  seven  tablets  which  com- 
prise the  main  Babylonian  version  of  Creation.  By 
adding  to  the  six  days  the  seventh  as  the  day  of 
rest,  we  obtain  a  complete  correspondence  in  num- 
bers between  the  Hebrew  and  the  Babylonian  nar- 
rative, and  we  have  plenty  of  evidence  to  show 
that  Hebrews  and  Babylonians  shared  the  view 
which  gave  to  the  number  seven  a  sacred  signifi- 
cance.1 It  is,  however,  of  importance  to  note  that, 
in  place  of  a  seventh  day  corresponding  to  the  sev- 
enth tablet  in  the  main  Babylonian  version,  we  have 
attached  to  the  biblical  narrative,  as  its  symbol  of 
the  sacredness  of  the  number  seven,  the  institution 
of  a  day  of  rest,  to  be  celebrated  every  seventh  day, 

1  See  Hehn,  Siebenzahl  und  Sabbat,  for  many  illustrations  among  both 
peoples. 


ACCOUNTS  OF  CREATION  133 

and  which  constitutes  one  of  the  chief  contributions 
of  the  Hebrews  to  the  religious  treasury  of  mankind. 
In  the  opening  verses  of  the  second  chapter  of  Gen- 
esis this  institution  is  directly  carried  back  to  the 
example  set  by  the  Deity  in  sanctifying  the  seventh 
day  as  one  set  apart  from  the  balance  of  the  week. 
The  manifest  purpose  in  thus  attaching  the  Sab- 
bath to  the  work  of  creation  is  to  justify  the  im- 
portance that  it  acquired  in  the  religious  life  of  the 
Hebrews,  more  particularly  in  the  postexilic  period. 
The  significance  of  the  Sabbath  itself,  and  the 
reason  why  it  rose  to  such  importance,  together 
with  the  consideration  of  a  possible  relationship  to 
a  corresponding  Babylonian  institution,  will  form 
the  subject  of  our  next  chapter. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  HEBREW  AND  THE   BABYLONIAN  SABBATH 


Among  the  problems  directly  created  through  the 
discovery  of  the  cuneiform  records  of  Babylon  and 
Assyria,  one  of  the  most  important,  and  at  the  same 
time  one  of  the  most  intricate,  is  the  question 
whether  the  Babylonians  had  an  institution  that 
may  be  compared  to  the  Sabbath  of  the  Hebrews, 
which  up  to  within  a  short  time  ago  was  regarded 
as  an  absolutely  unique  contribution  of  the  He- 
brews to  the  religious  thought  and  the  religious  insti- 
tutions of  mankind.  The  problem  began  with  the 
discovery  of  an  equation  in  a  cuneiform  text1  fur- 
nishing in  parallel  columns  synonyms  or  explana- 
tions of  certain  terms  as  follows : 

um  nukh  libbi—  shabattum, 

which,  literally  translated,  would  be 

"Day  of  rest  of  the  heart "  =  shabattum. 

At  first  sight,  this  would  seem  to  indicate  beyond 
any  possibility  of  doubt  that  the  Babylonians  rec- 

1 II  Rawlinson,  PI.  32,  Nr  1,  16  =  Cuneiform  Texts  from  Babylonian 
Tablets,  etc.,  in  the  British  Museum,  Part  XVIII,  PI.  23,  17  (K.  4397). 

134 


HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  SABBATH       135 

ognised  a  day  of   rest,  and    that   they  called  this 
day  by  a  term  which  certainly  suggested  the  He- 
brew Sabbath.     There  was,  to  be  sure,  an  element 
of  doubt  as  to  the  observance  of  a  "day  of  rest" 
in  Babylonia  or  Assyria,  owing  to  the  fact  that  the 
term  shabattum,  or  Sabbath,  had  not  been  found 
in  any  literary  or  religious  text,  but  only  on  a  tab- 
let of  a  purely  lexicographical  character,  and  that 
numerous  business  documents  of  all  periods  showed 
that  at  no  time  was  the  seventh  day  singled  out 
as  one  on  which  the  ordinary  activities  of  life  were 
interrupted.     Yet  the  force  of  this  objection  was 
weakened    by    the    consideration    that    the   lexico- 
graphical tablet  contained  other  terms,  such  as  um 
bubbuli,  a  designation  for  the  end  of  the  month; 
um  nubatti,  explained  as  "a  day  of  distress"  which 
had  been  found  in  religious  and  other  texts,  so  that 
it  was  a  fair  inference  to  assume  that  the  term  sha- 
battum belonged  to  the  religious  nomenclature  of  the 
language.     In  addition  to  this  passage  in  the  lexi- 
cographical tablet,  a  cuneiform  text  had  also  been 
published,1  from  which  it  appeared  that  the  seventh, 
fourteenth,  twenty-first,  and  twenty-eighth  days  of 
the  month  had  a  peculiar  significance.     To  be  sure, 
the  tablet  showed  that  the  nineteenth  day  had  the 
same  character,  and,  furthermore,  that  certain  pre- 
cautions  against   eating   food    cooked   over   a    fire, 
against  riding  in  a  chariot,  against  putting  on  fes- 
tive garments,  and  the  like,  were  prescribed  merely 
for    the    king.     Little   importance  was  at   first   at- 

1 IV  Rawlinson,  2d  ed.,  PI.  32-33. 


136    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

tached  to  this  limitation  by  scholars,1  who  were 
naturally  carried  away  with  astonishment  upon 
finding  even  a  partial  parallel  to  the  Hebrew  Sab- 
bath. It  was  assumed  that,  while  in  the  text  in 
question  the  special  significance  of  the  five  days  was 
limited  to  a  particular  month,  namely,  to  one  in- 
tercalated after  the  sixth  month,  the  restrictions 
would  hold  good  for  the  same  days  in  the  other 
months  of  the  year,  the  general  designation  of  such 
days  being  in  Babylonian  terminology  umu  limnuy 
that  is,  "evil  day"  or  "unlucky  day." 

Scientific  research  is  full  of  illustrations  of  the 
danger  of  judging  from  appearances  only.  The 
comparison  between  the  Babylonian  shabattum 
and  the  Hebrew  Sabbath  turned  out  to  be  a  most 
significant  instance.  As  more  religious  texts  from 
the  great  royal  library  of  Nineveh  were  published, 
it  was  found  that  the  term  "day  of  rest  of  the 
heart"  was  of  frequent  occurrence  and,  curiously 
enough,  appeared,  not  in  connection  with  a  day  of 
cessation  of  labour,  but  in  appeals  to  an  angered 
deity  to  whom  a  penitent  worshipper  who  had  felt 
the  severity  of  the  divine  wrath  poured  out  his 
grief  and  voiced  his  hope  for  a  return  of  divine  grace. 
This  hope  was  commonly  expressed  by  the  phrase 
"May  thy  heart  be  at  rest;  may  thy  liver  be  as- 
suaged," heart  and  liver  being  the  two  organs  in 
which,  as  we  know,  the  Babylonians  and  Assyrians, 
and,  indeed,  the  Hebrews  and  other  ancient  peo- 

1  See  the  first  thorough  discussion  of  the  question  by  Lotz,  Qucestiones 
de  Historia  Sabbati  (Leipzig,  1883). 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN   SABBATH       137 

pies,  at  one  time  placed  the  seat  of  the  intellect  and 
the  seat  of  life,  respectively.1  It  followed  that  the 
"rest  of  the  heart"  meant  the  pacification  of  the 
mind  or  spirit  and  that  the  "quieting  of  the  liver' ' 
was  to  all  practical  purposes  a  synonym;  or,  if  any 
actual  differentiation  between  the  two  phrases  was 
intended,  the  resting  of  the  heart  would  indicate 
the  change  of  a  mental  disposition  from  a  disturbed 
to  a  quiet,  and  therefore  to  a  favourable  state,  and 
the  pacification  of  the  liver  to  a  calming  of  the  emo- 
tions. In  this  way  the  supposition  that  the  Baby- 
lonians had  a  day  of  rest  appeared  to  be  completely 
shattered.  The  day  of  rest  of  the  heart  was  sim- 
ply a  technical  term  for  a  day  of  pacification,  that 
is  to  say,  one  on  which  it  was  hoped  that  the  an- 
gered deity  would  cease  from  manifesting  his  dis- 
pleasure. 

There  remained,  however,  the  term  shabattum, 
which  certainly  suggested  a  connection  with  the 
Hebrew  Sabbath.  In  fact,  the  identity  of  the  two 
terms  could  hardly  be  denied,  though  there  was  a 
slight  variation  of  a  grammatical  nature,  which  need 
not  detain  us  here.  Suffice  it  to  call  attention  to 
the  fact  that  we  have  in  Hebrew,  besides  the  term 
shabbath,  another  term — shabbathon,  which  corre- 
sponds more  closely  to  the  Babylonian  shabattum. 
Shabbathon  is  ordinarily  regarded  as  an  intensive 
form  of  the  word  for  Sabbath,  indicating  a  Sabbath 
of  special  significance,  but  I  venture  to  think  that 

1  See  the  writer's  article  on  "The  Liver  as  the  Seat  of  the  Soul,"  in 
Studies  in  the  History  of  Religions  Presented  to  C.  H.  Toy,  pp.  143-168 
(New  York,  191 2). 


138    HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

it  is  merely  an  adjectival  formation  having  the  force 
of  "sabbatical"  or  "Sabbath-like."  We  shall  have 
occasion  to  come  back  to  this  point  later  on.  For  a 
long  time  scholars  continued  to  be  puzzled  by  the 
Babylonian  term,  and  the  camps  were  divided  be- 
tween those  who  still  clung  to  the  thesis  that  the 
existence  of  the  term  pointed  to  a  Sabbath  insti- 
tution among  the  Babylonians,  and  those  who  either 
proposed  a  different  reading  of  the  signs,  such  as 
shapattum,1  or  who  believed  that  the  resemblance 
was  merely  accidental. 

Another  lexicographical  tablet  published  about 
nine  years  ago  by  Mr.  T.  G.  Pinches2  furnished  a 
satisfactory  solution  to  the  difficulty.  In  a  list 
giving  the  specific  names  attached  to  certain  days 
of  the  month,  such  as  the  first,  ninth,  tenth,  etc., 
it  was  found  that  the  fifteenth  day  of  the  month 
was  designated  by  this  very  term  shabattum.  The 
conclusion  was  obvious  that  among  the  Babylo- 
nians, the  term  corresponding  to  Sabbath  simply 
meant  the  period  of  full  moon.     From  other  sources 

1  Many  of  the  cuneiform  characters  have  this  double  value,  either 
with  a  hard  or  a  middle  sound  of  the  palatals,  labials,  or  dentals,  as  e.  g., 
uk  or  ug,  pal  or  bal,  ta  or  da,  etc. 

2Proc.  Soc.  Bibl.  Archaeology,  1904,  pp.  51-56.  Various  days  of  the 
month  were  entered  in  this  list  with  their  special  names,  e.  g.,  the  ninth 
day  as  tilti  ;  the  tenth  day  as  esherti  ;  the  nineteenth  day  as  ibbu,  "clear" ; 
the  twenty-fifth  as  arkhu  Til(la),  etc.  We  find  also  designations,  as  urn 
bubbuli  for  the  day  of  the  disappearance  of  the  moon  at  the  end  of  the 
month;  shulum  for  "unlucky  day";  rimku  and  takiltu  for  "purification" 
days;  isinnu,  "festival";  akitu,  "New  Year's  Day";  eshsheshu  and  um 
arkhi  for  the  day  of  the  new-moon.  The  purpose  of  the  list,  prepared 
as  an  exercise  for  the  pupils  of  the  temple  school,  evidently  was  to  group 
together  the  technical  terms  connected  with  ritualistic  and  ceremonial 
observances  for  special  days  of  the  month— a  kind  of  commentary  to  a 
religious  calendar. 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  SABBATH       139 

we  knew  that  the  underlying  verb,  shabatu,  was  a 
synonym  of  gamdru,  meaning  "to  complete."  Sha- 
battum  was,  therefore,  a  designation  of  the  time 
when  the  moon  reached  its  full  or  complete  size, 
or,  to  put  it  more  scientifically,  when  moon  and  sun 
were  in  opposition,  and  the  full  outlines  of  the  moon 
were  illuminated  by  the  sun's  rays.  It  was  ob- 
viously the  day  marking  the  middle  of  the  month 
that  was  described  as  an  um  nukh  libbi.  Now  what 
significance  had  Babylonians  and  Assyrians  at- 
tached to  the  period  of  full  moon  that  made  the 
middle  of  the  month  a  day  of  pacification  of  divine 
anger?  The  answer  to  this  question  is  furnished  by 
the  astrological  literature  of  Babylonia  and  As- 
syria, which  forms  a  large  section  of  the  tablets 
of  the  royal  library  of  Nineveh.  The  serious  study 
of  these  astrological  texts  did  not  begin  until  a  few 
years  ago,  and  at  the  present  time  forms  one  of 
the  most  active  branches  of  Assyriology.1 

It  turns  out  that  the  Babylonians  and  Assyrians 
had  three  chief  forms  of  divination,  or,  as  we  may 
put  it,  the  priests  developed  three  elaborate  meth- 
ods of  determining  what  the  gods,  to  whom  all 
events  were  ascribed,  had  in  mind  and  were  pro- 
posing to  carry  out.  The  first  and  probably  the 
oldest  of  these  forms  was  divination  through  the 
inspection  of  the  liver  of  a  sacrificial  animal,  based 
on  the  theory  that  the  liver  was  the  seat  of  the 

1  See  the  survey  of  this  literature  in  the  author's  Religion  Babyloniens 
und  Assyriens,  II,  pp.  415-457,  and  copious  translations  of  astrological 
reports,  and  from  the  collections  of  astrological  omens  (moon,  sun,  the 
five  planets  and  stars,  and  constellations),  ib.,  pp.  457-748. 


140    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

soul,  that  is,  of  the  mind  and  of  the  emotions  com- 
bined, and  that  in  the  case  of  an  animal  devoted 
to  a  deity  and  accepted  by  the  latter,  the  liver  of 
the  animal  in  question  became,  as  it  were,  identical 
with  the  liver  or  soul  of  the  god,  so  that  the  care- 
ful inspection  of  the  liver  furnished  a  tangible  means 
of  noting  the  disposition  of  the  god.  Strange  and 
even  absurd  as  such  a  notion  may  appear  to  us, 
the  system  not  only  continued  its  strong  hold  upon 
the  people  of  the  Euphrates  for  thousands  of  years, 
but  passed  on  to  other  nations,  to  the  Etruscans, 
to  the  Greeks,  and  to  the  Romans,  perhaps  also 
to  Eastern  nations,  and  survives  among  primitive 
peoples  to  the  present  time.1  Even  Plato,  the  great 
philosopher,  was  not  prepared  to  throw  this  method 
of  divination  aside  entirely,  and  in  describing  it  he 
makes  use  of  a  metaphor  which  admirably  describes 
the  fundamental  principle  of  the  system.  In  a  pas- 
sage in  one  of  his  dialogues2  he  speaks  of  the  liver 
of  the  sacrificial  animal  as  a  mirror  in  which  the 
image  of  the  gods  is  reflected.  According  to  pecul- 
iar signs  observed  in  the  liver,  the  state  and  size 
of  the  lobes,  the  formation  of  the  gall-bladder  and 
the  gall-ducts,  the  surface  traces  of  which  are  par- 
ticularly striking  in  the  case  of  the  liver  of  a  freshly 
slaughtered  sheep  which  was  the  common  animal 
of  sacrifice  in  Babylon  and  Assyria,  certain  conclu- 
sions were  drawn  as  to  coming  events,  based  on  the 

1  See  the  author's  paper  on  "The  Liver  as  the  Seat  of  the  Soul," 
above  referred  to,  p.  137,  and  also  copious  translations  of  liver-omens  in 
Jastrow,  Religion  Babyloniens  und  Assyriens,  II,  pp.  227-411,  and  pp. 
214-219  for  the  spread  of  hepatoscopy  to  other  nations. 

2Timseus,  §  71. 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  SABBATH       141 

two  chief  principles  of  divination:  (i)  association 
of  ideas,  and  (2)  observation  of  events  that  actually 
followed  shortly  after  the  inspection  of  a  liver  for 
purposes  of  divination. 

A  second  form  of  divination,  more  scientific  in 
character  and  which  was  likewise  developed  into  an 
elaborate  system,  consisted  in  observing  the  move- 
ments of  the  heavens;  while  a  third  system  was 
based  upon  observing  peculiarities  and  signs  in  the 
young  of  animals  and  in  infants,  at  the  time  of 
birth.  In  regard  to  this  third  system,  it  is  sufficient 
for  our  purpose  here  to  indicate  that  the  underlying 
theory  was  a  natural  importance  attached  to  de- 
viations from  the  normal  in  the  case  of  animals  and 
infants,  any  unusual  phenomenon  portending  by  a 
natural  association  of  ideas  some  unusual  event  that 
was  being  planned  by  the  gods.  The  moment  of 
birth  was  selected  as  significant  because  of  the  mys- 
tery attaching  to  the  appearance — so  strange  and  so 
striking — of  a  young  life  issuing  from  another  life.1 

Of  these  three  methods  of  divination,  the  second, 
through  the  observation  of  the  movements  of  the 
heavenly  bodies,  is  the  most  impressive,2  and  there 

1  For  a  full  discussion  of  this  third  system,  traces  of  its  spread  to  other 
nations,  and  the  part  it  played  in  giving  rise  to  the  belief  in  monsters, 
sent,  as  the  name  indicates,  as  "signs"  to  give  warning  of  portending 
disaster,  see  the  writer's  monograph,  Babylonian-Assyrian  Birth-Omens 
{Religions geschichtliche  Versuche  und  Vorarbeiten,  ed.  Dietrich  und 
Wunsch,  vol.  XIV,  No.  5).  Copious  specimens  of  Babylonian-Assyrian 
birth-omens,  both  official  reports  and  extracts  from  the  omen  collec- 
tions of  the  priests,  will  be  found  also  in  Jastrow,  Religion  Babyloniens 
und  Assyriens,  II,  pp.  837-931. 

2  See,  further,  the  chapter  on  "Astrology,"  in  the  author's  Aspects  of 
Belief  and  Practice  in  Babylonia  and  Assyria,  pp.  207-264  (New  York, 
1911). 


142    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

are  good  reasons  why  astrology  should  still  retain 
its  hold  among  so  many  people,  even  among  the 
intelligent  classes  at  the  present  time.     The  direct 
influence  of  the  sun  and   moon  on  human  affairs 
and  on  conditions  existing  on  our  planet  were  as  ob- 
vious to  ancient  peoples  as  they  are  to  us.    An  ag- 
ricultural community  is  dependent  primarily  upon 
the  sun.     The  phenomenon  of  vegetation  through 
the  sun's  rays,  after  the  storms  and  rains  of  the 
winter  season  have  passed,  is  sufficiently  mysteri- 
ous to  have  led  to  sun-worship  everywhere  through- 
out  antiquity.     To   a   people   living   in   an   earlier 
stage  of  culture  than  that  represented  by  tilling  the 
soil,  the  movements  of  the  moon  were  of  great  im- 
portance.    Its   regular  phases   formed   a   means   of 
calculating  time.     Nomads  living  in  southern  climes 
are   guided   in  their  wanderings,  which  during  the 
great  portion  of  the  year  take  place  at  night  rather 
than  in  the  daytime,  by  the  moon.     As  civilisation 
advanced   and  observation  became  more  exact,   it 
was  noted  that  other  bodies  in  the  heavens  change 
their  position  in  the  course  of  the  year.     It  was 
natural,  therefore,  in  addition  to  personifying   the 
sun  and   moon  as  gods,   to  regard  the  planets  or 
wandering  stars  likewise  as  deities;  and  if  the  planets 
were  gods  there  was  no  reason  why  all  the  other 
stars  should  not  also  be  looked  upon  as  divine  beings. 
Naturally,  a  step  of  this  kind  was  not  taken  until 
the  Babylonians  had  passed  far  beyond  the  primi- 
tive stage  of  culture;  and  we  find,  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  that  in   its  higher  stages  animism,  by  which 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN   SABBATH       143 

is  meant  the  personification  of  the  powers  of  na- 
ture, led  the  Babylonian  and  Assyrian  priests  to 
place  the  entire  sphere  of  divine  activity  in  the 
heavens.  In  other  words,  there  developed  in  the 
course  of  time  in  the  Euphrates  Valley  what  may 
be  called  an  astral  theology,  which  not  only  recog- 
nised the  heavens  as  the  seat  of  the  activity  of  the 
gods  and  goddesses,  but  which  coloured  the  entire 
religious  thought  and  impressed  itself  on  the  cult. 
Deities  that  were  originally  personifications  of  nat- 
ural powers  which  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  stars 
were  identified  with  heavenly  bodies.  So,  for  ex- 
ample, the  leading  goddess  of  Babylonia,  appear- 
ing under  various  names,  chief  of  which  were  Nana 
and  Ishtar,  and  who  was  essentially  a  goddess  of 
vegetation,  symbolising  the  power  of  the  earth,  was 
identified  with  the  planet  Venus.  The  god  Mar- 
duk,  the  head  of  the  Babylonian  pantheon,  origi- 
nally the  personification  of  the  sun,  was  identified 
with  the  planet  Jupiter,  merely  because  Jupiter  was 
the  most  prominent  of  the  planets  and  because  the 
sun  itself  had  become  associated  with  another  god, 
Shamash — a  term  which  became  generic  for  the  sun 
in  general.  With  the  sun,  moon,  planets,  stars,  and 
constellations  thus  identified  as  gods  and  goddesses, 
a  rational  basis  for  astrology  was  obtained.  Ninib, 
the  old  solar  deity  of  Nippur  who  continued  to  hold 
a  rank  next  to  Marduk,  was  associated  with  Saturn, 
only  some  degrees  less  prominent  in  the  heavens 
than  Jupiter.  Nebo,  as  the  son  of  Marduk,  was, 
in  consequence  of  this  association,  identified  with 


144    HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

the  smallest  of  the  planets,  Mercury;  and  Nergal, 
the  sun-god  of  midsummer,  bringing  pestilence  and 
death  in  its  wake,  was  identified  with  the  "un- 
lucky" planet  Mars.  It  will  thus  appear  that  three 
of  the  planets  were  originally  sun  deities,  and  no 
doubt  this  original  character  of  Marduk,  Ninib,  and 
Nergal  had  something  to  do  with  their  being  pro- 
jected on  the  heavens — smaller  suns  as  it  were  by 
the  side  of  the  sun-god  par  excellence,  Shamash.1 
By  a  further  association  of  ideas,  the  movements  of 
the  heavens  were  explained  as  the  activity  of  the 
gods  preparing  the  events  on  earth.  Hence  the 
great  importance  of  observing  this  heavenly  activ- 
ity as  an  absolutely  certain  means  of  finding  out  a 
little  beforehand  what  was  going  to  happen.  Baby- 
lonian-Assyrian astrology  thus  rested  on  a  sup- 
posed correspondence  between  heaven  and  earth, 
and  by  virtue  of  this  basis  was  given  a  quasi-scien- 
tific character  which  removed  it  from  the  sphere 
of  pure  caprice  or  of  mere  idle  fancy.  Astrology 
when  it  made  its  appearance  reflected  the  science 
of  the  day  and  not,  like  hepatoscopy  (i.  e.,  liver 
divination),  the  popular  beliefs.  This  relatively 
higher  character  of  divination  through  the  heav- 
enly bodies  must  be  taken  into  account  in  explain- 
ing the  coalition  of  astrology  and  astronomy  through 
the  Middle  Ages,  and  its  persistence  even  to  the 
present  day,  though  it  has  now  become  a  popular 
superstition  without  even  quasi-scientific  warrant. 

1  Saturn,  in  fact,  is  frequently  designated  in  astrological  texts  as  "the 
star  of  Shamash" — its  satellite,  so  to  speak.  See  Jastrow,  Aspects  of 
Belief,  etc.,  p.  223. 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN   SABBATH       145 

The  night-time  being  the  period  when  the  activ- 
ity of  the  gods  in  heaven  could  be  observed,  the 
moon  became  by  a  natural  process  the  most  impor- 
tant factor  in  astrology,  indicated  by  the  fact  that 
in  the  enumeration  of  the  gods,  the  moon-god,  called 
Sin,  invariably  takes  precedence  over  the  sun-god, 
Shamash. 

II 

We  need  not  stop  here  to  discuss  the  details  of 
the  astrological  system  unfolded  by  the  Babylonian 
priests,  and  which  passing  to  the  Greeks  formed 
the  basis  for  mediaeval  astrology,  as  well  as  for  such 
phases  of  it  as  still  survive  to  the  present  time. 
Suffice  it  to  say  that  here  also  the  same  funda- 
mental principles  that  hold  good  for  other  systems  of 
divination  may  be  observed:  the  association  of  ideas 
in  connection  with  certain  phenomena  and  the  ob- 
servation of  events  that  actually  followed  upon  cer- 
tain combinations  of  heavenly  bodies,  or  upon  pe- 
culiar phenomena  noticed  in  the  moon  or  in  one  of 
the  planets.  Now,  in  the  observation  of  the  moon 
there  were  three  periods  to  which  special  signifi-  *x 
cance  was  attached:  (a)  the  appearance  of  the  new 
moon  or  conjunction  of  moon  and  sun,  (b)  the  op- 
position of  the  sun  and  moon,  or  full  moon,  and  (c) 
the  disappearance  of  the  moon  for  a  few  days  at 
the  end  of  the  month.  These  three  periods  marked 
the  transition  from  one  stage  to  another,  and  it  is 
an  observation  to  be  noted  in  the  case  of  religions 
and  religious  rites  everywhere,  that  periods  of  trans- 


146    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

ition  were  imbued  with  special  significance.  So  the 
transition  in  nature  from  winter  to  spring,  from 
summer  to  winter,  was  a  period  fraught  with  special 
significance.  It  is  not  an  accident,  but  a  direct  re- 
sult of  this  importance  attached  to  times  of  transi- 
tion, that  the  chief  festivals  of  all  religions  are  coin- 
cident with  the  time  of  transition  of  one  season  to 
another.  In  this  way  we  have  as  the  midwinter 
festival,  the  Saturnalia  of  the  Romans,  the  Han- 
nukah  festival  of  the  Jews,  the  Yule-tide  of  the 
Teutons,  and  the  Christmas  week — all  falling  at 
the  time  of  the  winter  solstice.  Spring,  summer, 
and  harvest  festivals  are  likewise  coincident  with 
holy  days  in  practically  all  religions,  though  by  a 
more  or  less  arbitrary  connection  of  the  nature  fes- 
tivals with  real  or  traditional  events  in  the  history 
of  a  people  or  in  the  life  of  the  founders  of  the 
great  historical  religions — Judaism,  Buddhism,  Zo- 
roastrianism,  Islamism,  and  Christianity — the  origi- 
nal character  of  these  festivals  becomes  partially 
obscured  through  this  superimposed  layer.  By  the 
same  process  the  "transition"  periods  in  the  life  of 
the  individual — birth,  puberty,  marriage,  and  death 
— become  the  occasion  for  official  or  unofficial  ob- 
servances and  ceremonies1  that  have  their  modern 
representatives  in  baptism  (or  in  some  other  rite  of 
initiation  such  as  circumcision),  confirmation,  the 
marriage  ceremony,  and  the  funeral  rites  of  Judaism, 
Christianity,  and  Islamism. 

1  See  Van  Gennep,  Rites  de  Passage  (Paris,  1909),  for  copious  illustra- 
tions of  these  customs  among  all  peoples. 


HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  SABBATH       147 

Periods  of  transition  are  naturally  associated  also  « 
with  a  certain  element  of  uncertainty.     Such  a  pe- 
riod marked  the  end,  as  it  were,  of  one  era  and  the 
beginning  of  a  new  one.     The  coming  of  something 
new  turns  men's  thought  to  the  future — unknown 
and  mysterious.     One  could  never  be  certain  what 
the  future  had  in  store,   and  there  is  in  festivals 
celebrated  at  periods  of  transition  an  undercurrent 
of  anxiety  and   uncertainty,  often  disguised   under 
an   artificial  jollification,   partly  with   the   view  of 
throwing  off  more  sombre  thoughts,  and  partly  in 
the  hope  that  the  joy  might  become  a  symbol  of 
what  the  future  had  in  store.1     In  the  case  of  the 
moon,  it  was  natural  that  this  element  of  uncer- 
tainty would  have  a  special  force  at  the  end  of  the 
month,  when  the  moon  entirely  disappears.     Myths    ' 
represented  this  disappearance  of  the  moon  as  the 
capture  of  the  moon  by  hostile  powers.     The  mo- 
ment of  reappearance  could  not  be  calculated  by 
a  people  devoid  of  exact  science,  and  when  the  re- 
appearance was  delayed,  a  feeling  of  terror  ensued 
lest  the  moon  might  not  be  released.     Great  was  ^ 
the  rejoicing  when  at  last  the  thin  edge  of  the  new 
moon  was   seen— a   rejoicing  all   the  deeper  if  by 
some   chance   the  heavens  were  obscured   through 
clouds  on  the  night  of  the  expected  reappearance, 
and  the  element  of  uncertainty  thus  increased.     To 
this  day  travellers  in  the  interior  of  Arabia  tell  us 

1  So  the  popular  custom  of  masquerading  in  the  fall  (All  Saints'),  or  in 
the^  spring  (Purim  among  the  Jews),  both  indulged  in  at  transition 
periods,  are  survivals  of  the  endeavour  to  deceive  the  evil  spirits  that 
are  supposed  to  be  particularly  active  and  malevolent  at  these  seasons. 


148    HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

of  the  joy,  the  shouting  and  dancing  and  clapping 
of  hands  with  which  the  new  moon  is  received  by 
the  nomadic  Arabian  tribes.1    In  the  Jewish  church, 
likewise,  the  appearance  of  the  new  moon  is  still 
observed  as  a  solemn  ceremony,  accompanied  by  a 
special  benediction  on  the  reappearance  of  the  orb 
of  night.2     The   young    moon    increases    in    power 
every  night,  and  the  growth  was  naturally  associated 
with  increase,  with  prosperity,  and  with  the  favour- 
able, disposition  of  the  gods  until  the  full  propor- 
tions are  reached,  marked  by  an  almost  immediate 
transition  to  a  period  of  waning  strength  and  power. 
The  middle  of  the  month  thus  became  a  time  only 
second  in  significance  to  the  anxious  days  at  the 
end  of  the  month.     The  astrological  texts  and  the 
official  reports  of  the  court  astrologers  are  full  of 
references  to  the  exact  time  when   the  moon   be- 
comes full.3     If  this   happened   at  the   normal  pe- 
riod, the  fourteenth  or  fifteenth  day  of  the  month, 
the   portent  was    regarded    as   favourable.     But  if, 
through  the  lack  of  the  exact  method  of  calcula- 
tion, the  moon  appeared  to  be  full  on  the  thirteenth 
or  twelfth  day,  that  is,  too  early,  or  if,  as  the  ex- 
pression in  the  omen  texts  reads,  "  the  moon  was  de- 
layed," and  the  opposition  did  not  occur  until  the 
sixteenth  day,  the  event  was  full  of  ominous  signif- 
icance.    The  time,  therefore,  when   the   moon  had 
completed  its  growth  was  indeed  a  moment  when 

1  See,  e.  g.,  Doughty,  Arabia  Deserta,  I,  p.  366;   II,  p.  305. 

2  Dembitz,  Jewish  Service  in  Synagogue  and  Home,  p.  152. 

3  See  the  examples  in  Jastrow,  Religion  Babyloniens  und  Assyriens, 
II,  pp.  466-482. 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN   SABBATH       149 

pacification  of  the  deity  was  essential  to  the  wel- 
fare of  the  people.     In  this  sense  the  Babylonian 
shabattum  was  "a  day  of  rest  of  the  heart,"  a  day 
when  the  gods  were  particularly  implored  to  show 
themselves  merciful  and  favourable.     The  descrip- 
tion  or   explanation   of  the   term  shabattum,  with 
which  we  started  out,  thus  characterises  the  day  as 
one  which  had  "pacification"  as  its  central  theme, 
and   which   expressed   the   hope   that   "rest   of  the 
heart"  of  the  gods  might  be  its  outcome.     We  can 
well  understand  that  special  ceremonies  were  pre- 
scribed for  the  middle  of  the  month,  which  empha- 
sised  the   hope   that   the  opposition  would   appear 
at  the  right  time.     If  it  came  too  early  or  too  late, 
there  was  all  the  more  reason  why  the  gods,  thus 
manifesting  in  an  unmistakable  manner  their  dis- 
pleasure,  should   be   appealed  to,  that   their  heart 
might    be    at    rest    and    their    liver   assuaged — the 
constant  refrain  in  pacification  hymns  recited  at  a 
time  when   from  a  national   catastrophe,   or   from 
some  other  disastrous  occurrence,  the  conclusion  was 
drawn  that  some  god  had  been  offended,  or  that  the 
gods  in  general  were  angry.     Attempts  would  then 
naturally  be  made  to  pacify  them. 

Now  it  must  be  frankly  admitted  that  up  to  the 
present  time  we  have  not  found  any  direct  refer- 
ence to  pacification  ceremonies  at  the  time  of  the 
full-moon,  but  the  significance  attached  in  astrolog- 
ical texts  to  the  period  of  opposition  justifies  us  in 
assuming  that  such  ceremonies  actually  existed,  and 
it  is  significant  that  in  the  text  to  which  I  referred 


150    HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

at  the  beginning  of  this  chapter,  the  fourteenth  day 
appears  among  the  days  marked  as  evil  or  unlucky. 
The  same  is  the  case  in  another  text  at  our  dis- 
posal, in  which  the  lucky  and  unlucky  days  for  the 
whole  year  are  noted.1  In  all  cases  the  middle  of 
the  month  appears  as  unlucky  or  uncertain,  because 
marking  a  period  of  transition.  This  phenomenon 
of  lucky  and  unlucky  days  is  common  to  other 
religions  of  antiquity,  such  as  the  Egyptian  and 
the  Roman,2  where  likewise  we  have  elaborate  lists 
indicating  days  that  are  favourable  and  days  that 
are  unfavourable,  and  I  need  only  remind  you  of 
the  fact  that  in  the  Roman  calendar  the  ides  (i.  e., 
the  middle)  of  every  month  was  an  inauspicious 
occasion.  "Beware  the  ides  of  March, "  says  the 
soothsayer  to  Julius  Caesar.  The  historical  annals 
of  Assyrian  rulers  are  likewise  full  of  references  to 
favourable  and  unfavourable  days.  If  a  corner- 
stone was  to  be  laid,  or  an  important  expedition 
planned,  or  any  undertaking  to  be  inaugurated,  the 
kings  tell  us  that  through  the  baru-priests,  as  the 
diviners  were  called,3  a  favourable  day  for  the  en- 
terprise was  selected.  Naturally,  the  middle  of 
the  month,  or  the  shabattum,  was  not  the  only 
period  marked  as  unfavourable.  The  second  phase 
of  the  moon,  or  the  seventh  day,  when  the  moon 

1  V.  Rawlinson,  PL  48-49. 

2  See,  for  the  Egyptians,  Wiedemann,  Religion  of  the  Ancient  Egyptians, 
pp.  262  seq.;  for  the  Romans,  Wissowa,  Religion  und  Kultus  der  Romer, 
pp.  365-376. 

3  Bdru  means  "seer,"  but  in  the  sense  of  looking  at  something,  in- 
specting" a  liver,  observing  a  phenomenon  in  the  heavens,  or  noting 
a  birth  sign  as  a  means  of  forecasting  the  future. 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  SABBATH       151 

was  half  full,  and  the  fourth  phase,  or  the  twenty- 
first  day,  the  time  of  the  last  quarter,  also  marked 
transitions   though   not   specially   noted   in   the   as- 
trologers' reports.     In  this  way  we  can  account  for 
the  fact  that  in  the  calendar  for  the  intercalated 
sixth    month1   the    first,    seventh,    fourteenth,    and 
twenty-eighth  days  were  all  marked  as  ume  limnuti, 
or  "evil  days,"  on  which  the  king  as  the  represent- 
ative  of   the  gods,   and    therefore  closer  to  them, 
had  to  observe  certain  restrictions  in  order  not  to 
arouse  their  anger,  and  through  ceremonies  at  the 
end  of  the  day  to  insure  their  pacification.     This 
special  position  occupied  by  the  kings  is  well  known 
to   us   from   customs   found    throughout   antiquity. 
Mr.   J.  G.  Frazer,  in  his  admirable  work  on  "The 
Early  History  of  Kingship,"  furnishes  numerous  in- 
stances of  this  divine  or  semi-divine   character  of 
the    kings    that    hedges    them   in,   because   on   the 
equable  relations  between  the  king  and   the  gods 
the    welfare    of   the    entire    community    depended. 
Everywhere    throughout    antiquity    the    kings    are 
therefore    obliged    to    exercise    special    precautions 
so  as  not  to  arouse  the  displeasure  or  anger  of  the 
gods.     Taboos  of  all  kinds  were  prescribed,  some 
perpetual,  to  be  observed  at  all  times,  others  tem- 
porary, limited  to  specific  or  to  regular  occasions. 
It  was  to  the  king  that  the  gods  stood  in  a  pecul- 
iar relation,  as,   on  the  other  hand,  the  welfare  of 
the  individual,  according  to  the  ancient  view,  was 
closely  bound  up  in  that  of  the  community.     The 

^ee  above,  p.  135. 


152    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

omens  and  portents  in  the  divination  texts  of  Baby- 
lonia and  Assyria  therefore  bear  upon  public  wel- 
fare, on  crops,  on  famine,  on  pestilence,  on  war, 
victory,  and  defeat.  A  significant  event  happen- 
ing to  an  individual  was  supposed  to  be  a  sign  of 
importance  for  the  whole  community  sent  by  the 
gods  as  a  warning  to  all,  and  not  merely  to  the 
individual  to  whom  it  happened.  To  be  sure,  there 
was  also  room  in  the  Babylonian  religion  for  the 
special  needs  and  hopes  of  the  individual,  but  in 
general  it  may  be  said  that  the  gods  were  supposed 
to  concern  themselves  with  the  people  as  a  whole. 
If  an  exception  is  made  for  the  king  and  the  mem- 
bers of  the  royal  family,  it  was  due  to  the  peculiar 
position  held  by  the  rulers  in  their  official,  rather 
than  in  their  individual,  capacity. 

Our  investigation  up  to  this  point  would  seem 
to  show  therefore  that  the  Babylonians  and  As- 
syrians had  a  shabattum  or  Sabbath,  which  marked 
the  middle  of  the  month  as  a  period  of  impending 
change  from  the  full  power  of  the  moon  to  the  be- 
ginning of  the  decrease,  and  which,  as  a  period  of 
transition,  was  fraught  with  special  significance,  with 
an  element  of  uncertainty  and  dread,  because  the 
moon  was  approaching  the  period  of  decline  and 
ultimate  disappearance.  It  may  be  said  that  from 
this  point  of  view  the  entire  second  half  of  the 
month  should  have  been  regarded  as  an  anxious 
period,  during  which  it  was  particularly  impor- 
tant to  do  nothing  that  might  rouse  the  displeasure 
of  the  gods;   and  this  may  well  have  been  the  case, 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN   SABBATH       153 

but  the  more  specific  time  of  transition  had  a  spe- 
cial import.  If  the  transition  passed  without  any 
unfavourable  sign,  there  was  a  feeling  of  compara- 
tive reassurance  that  all  would  be  well. 

Furthermore,  we  may  conclude  that  the  restrict- 
ive rites  ordained  for  the  king  at  the  middle  of  the 
month  are  to  be  viewed  as  precautions.  If  he  is 
not  to  ride  in  his  chariot,  it  is  not  because  the  four- 
teenth day  was  a  day  of  rest  from  labour,  but  be- 
cause it  was  dangerous  to  show  himself  in  public 
on  that  day;  and  if  he  is  not  to  eat  meat  cooked 
by  the  fire,  it  is  because  the  fire  as  a  sacred  element 
should  not  be  handled  indiscriminately  at  a  time 
when  it  might  become  an  element  of  danger  to  the 
entire  community.  Similarly,  if  he  is  not  to  put 
on  festive  garments  or  to  proceed  on  an  expedition 
(as  the  text  tells  us),  it  is  again  because  the  day 
was  not  a  favourable  one  for  a  display  of  joy  or 
of  power.  The  Babylonians  and  Assyrians  felt 
deeply  that  unless  the  gods  co-operated  no  human 
undertaking  could  be  successful.  With  this  result 
we  must  rest  content  until  further  texts  throw  addi- 
tional light  upon  the  Babylonian  Sabbath. 

Ill 

Has  this  Babylonian  shabattum  any  bearing  on  the 
Sabbath  institution  of  the  Hebrews?  To  this  ques- 
tion I  believe  an  affirmative  answer  must  be  given, 
although  it  will  be  found  that  here,  also,  the  special 
line  of  development  of  religious  thought  among  the 


154    HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

Hebrews  led  to  entirely  original  points  of  view,  so 
that,  despite  certain  elements  of  the  Hebrew  Sab- 
bath which  may  be  associated  with  the  Babylonian 
shabattum,  the  Hebrew  Sabbath  is  an  expression  of 
religious  ideas  and  of  a  conception  of  divine  gov- 
ernment utterly  distinct  from  that  which  we  find 
in  the  religion  of  Babylonia  and  Assyria.  Even 
those  who  are  not  disposed  to  accept  any  relation- 
ship whatsoever  between  the  Babylonian  shabat- 
tum and  the  Hebrew  Sabbath  must  admit  that  the 
occurrence  of  a  term  in  Babylonia  that  forms  a 
practical  equivalent  to  the  designation  of  the  He- 
brew institution  calls  for  an  explanation,  for  the 
supposition  of  an  accidental  coincidence  may  be 
dismissed  without  further  argument. 

We  have  seen  that  the  Babylonian  shabattum 
stands  in  direct  relation  to  the  significance  attached 
to  the  phases  of  the  moon  in  astrology.  In  view  of 
this,  it  is  not  without  import  that  in  the  biblical 
books  new-moon  and  Sabbath  are  frequently  asso- 
ciated with  each  other.  When  the  child  of  the  Shu- 
nammite  woman1  is  taken  sick  the  wife  calls  upon 
the  husband  to  let  her  have  one  of  the  young  men 
and  one  of  the  asses,  in  order  that  she  may  run  to 
the  "man  of  God."  Her  husband  in  astonishment 
answers:  "Wherefore  wilt  thou  go  to  him  to-day? 
It  is  neither  new-moon  or  sabbath" — a  distinct 
implication  of  a  close  association  between  these  two 
periods  on  which  it  must  have  been  customary  to 
consult  "men  of  God,"  that  is,  diviners  through 
XII  Kings  4  :  23. 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  SABBATH       155 

whom  an  oracle  might  be  secured  or  an  answer  to 
some  question  obtained. 

In  the  prophetical  books,  likewise,  we  find  new- 
moon  and  Sabbath  closely  associated.  Isaiah,1  in 
denouncing  the  bringing  of  offerings  by  those  who 
regarded  worship  as  giving  them  the  privilege  of 
doing  shameful  deeds,  declares:  "Bring  no  more 
vain  oblations, — incense  is  an  abomination  unto  me. 
New-moon  and  sabbath,  calling  an  assembly — go, 
I  cannot  bear  iniquity  with  solemn  convocation." 
The  Prophet  Amos2  in  describing  the  greed  of  the 
people  for  gain  represents  them  as  saying:  "When 
may  the  new  moon  be  gone,  that  we  may  sell  grain, 
and  the  sabbath,  that  we  may  open  wheat?" 

In  addition  we  have  at  least  one  passage  in  one 
of  the  Pentateuchal  Codes  which  appears  to  con- 
tain as  a  survival  the  use  of  the  word  Sabbath  as  a 
designation  for  the  middle  of  the  month,  precisely 
therefore  as  the  Babylonian  shabattum.  In  the 
twenty-third  chapter  of  Leviticus,  forming  part  of 
what  is  known  as  the  Holiness  Code,  among  the  reg- 
ulations for  the  so-called  Feast  of  Weeks  (shebuoth), 
it  is  stated  that  this  feast  begins  on  the  fiftieth  day 
after  the  beginning  of  the  Passover  festival.  Now 
the  Passover  festival  falls  on  the  fifteenth  day  of 
Nisan,  that  is,  the  first  month.  When  therefore 
it  is  said  (vs.  15):  "And  you  shall  count  from  the 
morrow  after  the  sabbath  .  .  .  seven  complete  sab- 

1  Isa.  1  :  13;  cf.  also  66  :  23. 

2  Amos  8  :  5.  See  also  Hosea  2  :  13,  and  Ezek.  46  :  2.  In  the  latter 
passage  the  ordinance  reads  that  the  inner  eastern  gate  shall  be  open  on 
the  Sabbath  and  on  the  day  of  new-moon,  but  otherwise  is  to  be  closed. 


156    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

baths  shall  there  be,"  the  simplest  explanation  for 
this  passage,  which  has  occasioned  considerable  diffi- 
culty to  commentators,  is  that  the  fifteenth  day, 
or  the  middle  of  the  month,  is  here  actually  desig- 
nated by  the  term  "  sabbath. "  I  cannot  stop  to 
consider  this  interesting  passage  in  detail,1  but  it 
may  be  proper  to  point  out  that  all  the  Penta- 
teuchal  Codes  show  traces  of  considerable  editing, 
and  that  every  series  of  regulations  can  be  analysed 
into  older  and  later  component  parts.  In  the  very 
passage  in  question  the  expression  "the  morrow  after 
the  Sabbath"  belongs  to  an  older  stratum  than 
the  addition  "seven  sabbaths  shalt  thou  complete," 
where  the  word  Sabbath  is  clearly  used  in  the  very 
general  sense  of  "week."  In  this  transition  in  mean- 
ing from  the  use  of  a  term  designating  the  middle 
of  the  month  to  the  designation  of  a  week  of  seven 
days2  there  lies,  however,  the  whole  history  of  the 
Hebrew  institution.  We  are  fortunately  in  a  po- 
sition to  follow  this  history,  at  least  along  its  main 
lines,  though  naturally  when  we  try  to  reconstruct 
it  from  its  beginnings  we  cannot  expect  to  find  more 

1  See  the  details  in  an  article  by  the  writer,  "The  Morrow  After  the 
Sabbath,"  in  the  American  Journal  of  Semitic  Languages,  vol.  XXIX, 
No.  3. 

2  We  thus  have  no  less  than  four  distinct  uses  of  the  terra  sabbath  in 
Hebrew:  (1)  the  sacred  occasion  celebrated  every  seventh  day,  (2) 
"week,"  (3)  middle  of  the  month,  (4)  a  designation  of  certain  festival 
days  as  "Sabbath,"  namely,  the  first  day  of  the  harvest  festival,  i.e., 
the  fifteenth  day  of  the  seventh  month — a  survival  of  the  original  appli- 
cation of  Sabbath  to  the  full-moon,  and  by  extension  to  the  eighth  day 
of  the  festival  because  celebrated  in  like  manner  as  the  first  day  (Lev. 
23  :  39).  It  should  be  noted  that  the  latter  part  of  verse  39  in  which 
"sabbath"  is  applied  to  the  two  festival  days  in  question  represents  an 
addition  to  the  verse. 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  SABBATH       157 

than  some  traces  of  the  time  when  ideas  were  asso- 
ciated with  the  Sabbath  day  of  a  totally  different 
character  from  those  which  mark  the  developed 
institution. 

Up  to  the  present,  then,  we  have  encountered 
among  the  Hebrews  indications  of  a  close  associa- 
tion between  the  new-moon  and  the  Sabbath,  and 
in  the  second  place  a  survival,  though  a  faint  one, 
of  the  application  of  the  term  to  the  middle  of  the 
month,  or,  if  that  be  not  granted,  at  least  an  appli- 
cation different  in  character  from  the  ordinary  con- 
notation of  the  term.  Proceeding  a  step  further, 
it  can  be  shown  that  among  the  Hebrews,  as  among 
the  Babylonians  (and,  as  we  have  seen,  among  prim- 
itive peoples  of  antiquity  in  general),  transition  pe- 
riods were  fraught  with  religious  significance.  It 
is  surely  no  accident  that  the  spring  festival  of  the 
Pentateuchal  Codes,  having  originally  an  agricultural 
character  as  marking  the  ripening  of  the  wheat,1 
and  to  which  an  historical  import — the  traditional 
Exodus  from  Egypt — was  attached,  was  celebrated, 

1  This  is  the  massoth,  or  festival  of  "unleavened  bread,"  i.  e.,  eating  the 
cakes  made  from  the  new  crop  of  wheat — unleavened  in  nomadic  fashion. 
The  Pesach,  or  Paschal  festival,  marked  by  the  eating  of  a  young  lamb, 
had  nothing  to  do  with  the  massoth,  except  for  the  fact  that  the  spring- 
time is  also  the  period  when  the  lambs  are  born.  In  order  to  give  to  the 
spring  festival  a  Jewish  significance,  the  "unleavened  bread"  was  ex- 
plained as  due  to  the  haste  with  which  the  people  were  obliged  to  leave 
Egypt  without  having  the  time  to  leaven  the  dough.  Furthermore,  by  a 
play  on  the  word  pesach,  which  means  to  "leap  over,"  the  term  was  ex- 
plained as  a  reminiscence  of  the  special  protection  vouchsafed  the  He- 
brews on  the  night  when  the  first-born  in  every  Egyptian  house  was 
stricken  and  the  demon  of  disease  "leaped  over"  (Ex.  12  :  13  and  23) 
the  houses  of  the  Hebrews,  frightened  off  by  the  sight  of  the  blood  of 
the  slaughtered  lamb  that  had  been  sprinkled  on  the  door-posts. 


158    HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

as  we  have  just  seen,  at  the  middle  of  the  month, 
on  the  fifteenth  day  of  the  month — a  shabattum 
in  the  full  Babylonian  sense.  The  festival  in  the 
fall,  corresponding  to  the  Passover  in  the  spring 
and  celebrated  at  the  time  of  the  closing  of  the 
harvest  of  the  fruits,  was  likewise  celebrated  at 
the  middle  of  the  month,  on  the  fifteenth  day  of 
Tishri,  i.  e.,  the  seventh  month.1  To  this  festival, 
likewise,  an  historical  significance  was  attached.  It 
was  to  serve  as  a  reminder  of  the  years  of  the  wan- 
derings of  the  Hebrews  in  the  wilderness.  But  it 
is  evident  that  the  name  of  the  festival,  the  Fes- 
tival of  Booths,2  is  rather  to  be  accounted  for  as 
a  survival  of  the  perfectly  natural  custom  of  the 
people  actually  to  dwell  in  the  fields  during  the 
harvest  days. 

Now,  harvest-times  cannot  be  definitely  fixed  for 
any  specific  day.  The  spring  festival  marking  the 
beginning  of  the  ripening  of  the  early  wheat  cannot 
be  narrowed  down  to  a  fixed  day.  A  certain  leeway 
must  be  allowed  according  to  the  more  or  less  fa- 
vourable weather  conditions,  and  the  same  is  the 
case  with  the  harvest  festival  in  the  fall.  The  se- 
lection of  the  fifteenth  day  is  evidently  directly  as- 
sociated with  the  significance  attached  to  the  middle 
of  the  month  rather  than  based  upon  observation 
that  on  this  day  the  early  and  the  late  harvest  ac- 
tually begins.  The  period  of  seven  days  prescribed 
for  both  the  Passover  and  the  Festival  of  Booths 
must,  similarly,  be  directly  connected  with  the  third 

1  Lev.  23  :  34.  2  In  Hebrew,  Sukkoth. 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  SABBATH       159 

phase  of  the  moon,  the  week  of  anxiety  and  uncer- 
tainty during  which  the  moon  is  gradually  waning 
until  the  last  quarter  is  reached.  If  this  explanation 
be  adopted,  we  are  further  justified  in  concluding 
that  this  period  of  the  middle  of  the  month  had  a 
significance  among  the  Hebrews,  quite  independent 
of  the  particular  association  with  the  agricultural 
conditions  prevailing  in  the  first  and  seventh  months 
of  the  year.  We  may  go  a  step  further.  One  of 
the  most  solemn  festivals  in  the  Hebrew  calendar, 
which  has  retained  this  character  even  up  to  the  pres- 
ent time  among  observant  Jews,  is  the  celebration 
of  the  New  Year  on  the  first  day  of  the  seventh 
month.  It  is  generally  assumed  by  scholars  that 
this  festival  was  not  actually  instituted  until  after 
the  period  of  the  exile,  but  there  is  every  reason  to 
suppose  that  the  day  had  a  religious  import  of  some 
kind  before  the  reconstruction  of  the  Hebrew  com- 
monwealth. The  very  fact  that,  as  we  know,  the 
Hebrews  adopted  the  Babylonian  calendar  under 
the  influence  of  conditions  existing  in  the  exilic  pe- 
riod, and  that  in  this  calendar  the  year  begins  in 
the  spring  and  not  in  the  fall,  is  a  proof  of  the 
antiquity  of  the  celebration  of  the  first  day  of  the 
seventh  month  as  one  of  special  import.  It  may 
well  be  that  originally  this  day  was  celebrated  as 
the  beginning  of  the  late  harvest  month  so  that 
there  would  be  a  direct  association  again  between 
the  new-moon  and  the  full-moon  periods.  We  must 
not,  however,  press  this  point  too  far,  and  for  the 
purpose  of  our  argument  it  is  sufficient  to  recog- 


160    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

nise  that  the  new-moon's  day  of  this  particular 
month  became  a  most  solemn  occasion.  It  may  be 
well  to  bear  in  mind  also  that  the  Hebrews,  like 
the  Babylonians,  waited  anxiously  each  month  for 
the  appearance  of  the  first  edge  of  the  new-moon. 
In  the  Talmudic  treatise  of  Sanhedrin1  we  are  told 
in  detail  how  each  month  the  court  sat  in  Jerusalem 
waiting  for  messengers  to  announce  that  from  some 
eminence  they  had  actually  seen  the  new-moon  with 
their  own  eyes,  and  it  was  only  upon  the  assurance 
thus  given  by  two  eye-witnesses  that  the  beginning 
of  the  month  was  officially  announced.  Such  a 
survival  from  a  period  when  time  was  calculated 
through  direct  observation  is  a  most  important  wit- 
ness of  the  significance  at  one  time  attached  to  the 
appearance  of  the  new-moon  and  which,  incrusted  in 
tradition,  survived  far  into  the  period  when  among 
the  Jews,  as  among  other  nations,  astronomy  had 
reached  a  point  which  made  it  superfluous  to  wait 
for  eye-witnesses  in  order  to  ascertain  the  actual 
beginning  of  the  month.  Up  to  the  present  time 
in  the  orthodox  Jewish  ritual  the  new-moon  is  cel- 
ebrated as  a  half-holiday,  and  there  is  included  in 
the  prayer-book  a  special  prayer  which  is  to  be  said 
in  salutation  of  the  new-moon,  and  with  the  face 
directed  towards  the  orb  of  night. 

The  patient  sufferer  Job,  in  declaring  his  inno- 
cence and  enumerating  the  things  that  he  did  not 
do,  says  that  he  did  not  salute  the  moon  "by  throw- 
ing a  kiss  at  it,"  2  in  allusion,  evidently,  to  a  cere- 

1  Talmud  Babli,  Sanhedrin,  fol.  102;   Rosh  ha-Shana,  II,  7. 

2  Job  31  ',27. 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  SABBATH       161 

mony  of  greeting  that  must  have  been  so  common 
as  to  be  at  once  understood  despite  the  rather  brief 
manner  in  which  it  is  referred  to.  There  is  another 
Jewish  festival,  though  of  late  origin,  which  is  like- 
wise celebrated  in  the  middle  of  the  month,  the  one 
known  as  Purim.  We  cannot  stop  to  consider  in 
detail  this  interesting  festival,  celebrated  on  the 
fourteenth  day  of  Adar  (the  twelfth  month),  and 
which  is  described  in  the  late  biblical  book  of  Esther.1 
Let  me  content  myself  by  pointing  out  that  preced- 
ing the  festival  of  the  fifteenth,  there  is  a  fast  pre- 
scribed for  the  day  before — a  distinct  indication 
again  of  the  anxiety  associated  with  the  middle  of 
the  month,  followed  by  a  period  of  rejoicing  that 
the  crisis  marked  by  the  beginning  of  the  waning 

1  See  Professor  Paul  Haupt's  paper  on  Purim  in  the  Beitrage  zur  Assyrio- 
logie,  vol.  VI,  No.  2,  filled  with  a  wealth  of  learning  and  marked  by  illumi- 
nating discussions  of  mooted  points,  though  I  cannot  agree  with  all  of 
Haupt's  deductions.  Briefly  put,  Purim,  as  its  foreign  name  indicates, 
is  in  reality  a  Persian  spring  festival,  marked  by  ceremonies  symbolical 
of  the  reappearance  of  the  sun  of  spring-tide,  which  was  adopted  by  the 
Jews,  just  as  they  adopted  under  Roman  influences  the  midwinter  festival 
of  the  Romans.  To  give  the  foreign  festivals  a  Jewish  colouring,  events 
— real  or  traditional — were  attached  to  them;  the  midwinter  festival 
was  made  commemorative  of  the  victory  of  the  Maccabees  in  the  year 
160  B.  C,  while,  to  account  for  Purim,  an  elaborate  story  was  told,  in 
part  based  on  actual  events,  how  the  Jews  were  saved  from  a  dire  de- 
struction planned  by  a  prime  minister  of  the  Persian  king  through  the 
intervention  of  one  of  their  own  people,  Mordecai.  In  commemoration 
of  this  escape  the  festival  was  instituted,  while  the  fast  was  explained 
as  an  ordinance  prescribed  in  anticipation  of  the  destruction  and  in  the 
hope  of  securing  divine  succour,  which  did  not  fail  to  come.  The  chief 
characters  in  the  book  of  Esther — Mordecai  and  Esther — are  purely  ficti- 
tious, the  names  being  adaptations  of  the  Babylonian  deities,  Marduk 
and  Ishtar  (regarded  as  the  consort  of  the  chief  god),  and  some  of  the 
episodes  in  which  these  personages  are  introduced  were  suggested  by  a 
Babylonian  nature-myth  symbolising  the  triumph  of  Marduk  as  the 
spring-god  in  association  with  Ishtar  as  the  goddess  of  vegetation,  over 
the  storms  of  the  winter  season — pictured  as  an  evil  counsellor  planning 
havoc  and  destruction. 


162    HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

of  the  moon  had  been  successfully  passed  without 
any  serious  consequence. 

Enough  evidence,  I  believe,  has  now  been  brought 
forward  to  show  that  transition  periods,  and  more 
particularly  the  first  and  the  middle  of  the  month, 
had  a  special  significance  for  the  Hebrews,  quite  as 
much  as  for  the  Babylonians.  We  should  therefore 
be  prepared  to  find  also  some  traces  of  the  ideas 
associated  with  lucky  and  with  unlucky  days.  To 
begin  with  the  former,  we  have  at  least  one  inter- 
esting reference  to  a  lucky  day.  In  the  first  Book 
of  Samuel,  chapter  25,  in  connection  with  the  story 
of  David's  relations  to  Nabal,  David  is  represented 
as  sending  his  young  men  to  Nabal,  who  was  rich 
in  flocks,  and  with  insolent  assurance  asking  for  a 
present,  because  he  and  his  young  men  allowed  the 
shepherds  of  Nabal  to  shear  the  sheep  without 
pouncing  upon  them.  In  sending  his  message, 
David  says  (vs.  8) :  "Let  the  young  men  find  favour 
in  thine  eyes,  for  we  have  come  on  a  good  day 
(yom  tob)."  From  a  mere  allusion  of  this  char- 
acter it  might  be  hazardous  to  draw  large  infer- 
ences, but  when  we  find  that  this  expression,  "good 
day,"  is  the  one  still  in  current  use  in  the  Jewish 
church  for  every  holiday  or  festival,  it  will  be  ad- 
mitted that  the  explanation  of  the  term  must  be 
sought  in  the  significance  of  the  particular  day  as 
a  good  or  lucky  one. 

As  for  unlucky  days  we  may  point  to  a  custom, 
still  holding  good  in  orthodox  Judaism,  according  to 
which  marriages  are  not  to  be  celebrated  during  the 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  SABBATH       163 

seven  weeks  intervening  between  the  Passover  and 
the  Festival  of  Weeks,  with  the  exception  of  the 
thirty-third  day.  The  name  given  to  this  thirty- 
third  day,  lag  beomer,1  that  is,  the  thirty-third 
day  of  the  "waving"  period,  shows  that  it  is  con- 
nected with  the  counting  of  the  seven  weeks  from 
the  middle  of  the  first  month,  when  the  first  sheaf 
of  wheat  is  "waved"  as  an  offering  to  insure  the 
happy  completion  of  the  spring  harvest.2  This 
whole  period  of  seven  weeks  was  looked  upon  as  a 
time  of  uncertainty,  when  it  was  particularly  im- 
portant to  exercise  great  precaution  so  as  not  to  of- 
fend the  agricultural  gods  or  spirits  who  preside  over 
vegetation.  In  Frazer's  Golden  Bough?  those  who 
are  interested  can  find  numerous  illustrations  of  the 
importance  of  propitiatory  ceremonies  to  make  the 
field  spirits  favourably  disposed,  more  particularly 
during  the  ripening  period.  The  prohibition  of 
marriage  during  this  period  is  merely  a  survival  of 
other  restrictions  that  must  have  been  enforced 
during  these  weeks.4 

1  See  the  article  under  "Omer,"  in  the  Jewish  Encyclopedia,  for  a  brief 
account. 

2  See  Lev.  23  :  11. 

3 Third  ed.,  Part  V,  "Spirit  of  the  Corn  and  of  the  Wild,"  especially 
chapters  II,  III,  and  V. 

4  There  is  always  associated  with  marriage,  both  among  primitive  peo- 
ples and  in  the  advanced  civilisations  of  antiquity,  a  feeling  of  fear  lest 
the  jealousy  of  evilly  disposed  demons  be  aroused  to  mar  the  joy  of  the 
occasion.  Hence  arise  all  sorts  of  precautions  to  avoid  this  hostility,  in- 
cluding the  custom  among  the  Greeks  of  the  bridal  pair  exchanging  clothes 
on  the  wedding-night,  the  bride  masquerading  as  the  husband  and  the 
husband  as  the  bride  in  order  to  deceive  or  to  confuse  the  evil  demons. 
See  Gruppe,  Griechische  Mythologie  und  Religions geschichte,  p.  903,  note  3. 


164    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 


IV 

y 

We  are  now  prepared  to  take  up  the  question 
whether  in  connection  with  the  Sabbath  institution 
we  can  actually  find  traces  among  the  Hebrews  of 
a  Sabbath  day  regarded  as  an  inauspicious  or,  let 
us  say,  as  an  austere  occasion.  To  answer  this 
question  we  must  consider  briefly  the  history  of  the 
institution  itself.  In  a  former  chapter1  I  referred 
to  the  fact  that  the  enactment  of  the  Sabbath  is 
directly  attached,  in  the  Priestly  Code,  to  the  work 
of  creation.  That  circumstance  is,  as  a  matter  of 
course,  significant  only  as  a  proof  of  the  sanctity 
that  the  Sabbath  had  in  postexilic  days  acquired 
when  the  Priestly  Code  received  its  present  form. 
In  order  to  emphasise  the  sacred  character  of  the 
day  it  is  carried  back  to  the  beginning  of  time,  and 
stamped  as  an  institution  to  mark  the  termination 
of  the  divine  work  of  creation.  God  Himself  is  repre- 
sented as  setting  the  example  of  rest  on  the  seventh 
day.  Certainly  no  higher  authority  could  be  given 
for  the  observance  of  the  seventh  day  as  a  day  of 
rest  and  cessation  from  all  labours.  Such  is  evi- 
dently the  thought  running  in  the  mind  of  the 
compilers  of  the  Priestly  Code.  In  accord  with 
this  view  we  find  in  one  version  of  the  Decalogue 
(Ex.  20  :  11)  the  Sabbath  specifically  set  down  as 
an  institution  to  commemorate  the  completion  of 
the  creation  of  the  world.     In  this  Decalogue,  how- 

1  Above,  pp.  132  seq. 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  SABBATH       165 

ever,  it  is  generally  recognised  that  the  original 
form  of  the  ordinance  in  regard  to  the  Sabbath 
read  simply,  "Remember  the  Sabbath  day  to  keep 
it  holy,"  and  that  the  succeeding  verses  represent 
later  additions,  specifying  the  character  of  the  sev- 
enth day  as  a  day  of  cessation  from  all  work,  indi- 
cating in  detail  the  inclusion  in  the  ordinance  of 
all  the  members  of  the  family,  the  household,  the 
cattle,  and  even  the  stranger  within  the  gates.  As 
for  the  reason  assigned  for  the  institution  of  the 
seventh  day,  it  is  not  without  significance  that  in 
the  other  Decalogue  in  Deut.  5  there  is  no  refer- 
ence to  creation.  The  emphasis  in  this  version 
is  likewise  laid  upon  cessation  from  labour,  with 
the  same  specification  of  those  who  are  to  be  in- 
cluded in  the  ordinance,  with  the  addition,  how- 
ever, of  further  details  such  as  "thine  ox,  thine 
ass,"  which  incidentally  furnish  the  proof  that  both 
in  Exodus  and  Deuteronomy  the  original  law  has 
been  amplified  by  later  layers.1     In  Deuteronomy, 

1  Such  layers  superimposed  upon  the  original  form  of  a  law  are  char- 
acteristic of  all  the  codes  to  be  distinguished  in  the  Pentateuch.  They 
represent  comments  and  decisions,  explaining  and  illustrating  the  appli- 
cation of  the  laws.  The  process  which  thus  led  to  the  steady  amplifica- 
tion of  the  original  ordinances  is  of  the  same  order  as  we  encounter  in 
the  great  compilation  of  Rabbinical  Judaism  known  as  the  Talmud, 
where  a  sharp  division  is  made  between  two  sections,  (a)  the  "Mishnah" 
furnishing  the  laws,  and  (b)  the  "Gemarah"  giving  the  discussions  and 
decisions  of  the  Rabbis  upon  each  law.  Thus  in  the  case  of  the  Sabbath 
law  of  the  Decalogue,  the  question  would  naturally  be  asked,  What  is 
meant  by  "keeping  it  holy"?  To  this  the  reply  is  "cessation  from  all 
labour."  Further  questions  would  then  be  put,  Does  this  include  all 
members  of  the  family?  Answer — Yes.  How  about  the  household  out- 
side of  the  immediate  family  of  the  master  of  the  house  ?  Yes,  the  house- 
hold, too,  must  rest  from  all  labours.  The  cattle  also?  Yes.  Should  it 
include  even  a  stranger,  that  is,  one  who  does  not  belong  to  the  tribe  or 


166    HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

moreover,  a  further  emphasis  appears  to  be  laid 
upon  the  inclusion  of  all  the  servants  in  the  house- 
hold. "Thy  man  servant,  and  thy  maid  servant/' 
shall  rest,  and  in  connection  with  this  the  people 
are  asked  to  remember  that  they  were  servants  in 
the  land  of  the  Egyptians.  The  Sabbath  thus  be- 
comes an  institution  in  commemoration  of  the  time 
of  bondage  and  servitude  in  the  traditional  history 
of  the  people.  Now  the  very  existence  of  varying 
reasons  for  the  origin  of  the  Sabbath  justifies  us  in 
instituting  an  independent  investigation.  I  do  not 
deny,  as  a  matter  of  course,  the  significance  of  the 
view  expressed  in  the  Priestly  Code  that  the  idea 
of  rest  is  sanctified  by  the  Almighty  Himself.  That 
is  a  very  exalted  view,  to  be  looked  upon  as  the 
flowering  of  the  Hebrew  religion,  an  impressive  ex- 
pression of  the  spiritualistic  content  of  the  faith 
upon  which  the  Prophets  had  stamped  their  relig- 
ious ideals.  But  while  paying  our  tribute  to  the 
religious  value  of  the  doctrine,  we  must  neverthe- 
less keep  ourselves  free  in  an  historical  investigation 
for  other  and  possibly  more  accurate  points  of  view. 
The  emphasis  laid  in  both  Decalogues  upon  cessa- 
tion from  labour,  and  the  inclusion  in  this  ordinance 
of  the  members  of  the  household  and  of  the  domes- 
tic animals,  forms  a  more  definite  point  of  departure 
for  determining  the  real  character  of  the  Sabbath 

community?  Again  the  priests  decided  in  the  affirmative.  For  an  il- 
lustration of  the  complicated  process  resulting  from  this  embodiment  of 
the  "Gemarah"  with  the  "Mishnah"  in  the  biblical  laws,  see  an  article 
by  the  writer,  "An  Analysis  of  Leviticus,  Chaps.  13  and  14"  (the  so- 
called  leprosy  legislation),  in  the  Jewish  Quarterly  Review  (new  series), 
vol.  IV,  No.  3. 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN   SABBATH       167 

from  the  moment  when  it  became  a  distinctly 
Hebrew  institution.  Throughout  the  Pentateuchal 
Codes  the  conditions  of  life  assumed  are  those  pre- 
vailing in  agricultural  communities.  The  laws  are 
such  as  apply  to  agricultural  communities  prima- 
rily. The  ideal  life  implied  in  these  codes  is  that  of 
the  head  of  a  large  household,  the  possessor  of  lands 
cultivated  by  himself  and  his  servants,  and  from  the 
produce  of  which  he  sustains  himself  and  his  family. 
Commerce  is  recognised  but  looked  upon  askance.1 
The  simple  life  of  the  country  is  given  the  prefer- 
ence over  the  display  and  luxury  associated  with 
cities.  When  labour  is  spoken  of  in  these  codes  it 
is  labour  in  the  fields  that  is  meant.  The  Sabbath 
thus  becomes,  in  the  mind  of  the  compilers  of  the 
Pentateuchal  Codes,  a  distinctly  agricultural  insti- 
tution. As  such  it  may  be  traced  back  to  pre-exilic 
days,  though  we  have  plenty  of  evidence  that  the 
day  was  not  observed  in  the  earlier  periods  of  He- 
brew history  with  that  strictness  that  characterised 
it  in  later  times.  The  fundamental  view  for  the 
pre-exilic  period  is  well  expressed  in  a  phrase  used 
in   connection   with    the   Sabbath   "that   one    may 

1  This  is  illustrated  by  the  prohibition  against  taking  interest  (Ex. 
22  :  24)  on  loans — a  primary  condition  of  commercial  activity,  since 
commerce  cannot  be  carried  on  without  credit,  and  credit  involves  inter- 
est. The  ordinary  translation  of  "usury"  (t.  e.,  excessive  interest)  for 
the  Hebrew  term  used  is  incorrect.  Ordinary  interest  is  meant.  To  be 
sure,  the  law  in  its  original  form  is  limited  to  the  fellow  Hebrew  ("to  my 
people,"  as  Ex.  22  :  24  puts  it;  and  a  subsequent  comment  or  decision 
adds  (Deut.  23  :  21),  "You  may  take  interest  from  the  stranger,"  but  this 
is  a  concession  to  later  conditions  when  commercial  activity  had  sup- 
plemented the  earlier  agricultural  stage.  The  anti-commercial  spirit  of 
the  original  legislation  crops  out  in  other  passages. 


168    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

refresh  himself."  1  Evidently  the  original  purpose 
was  not  to  make  the  day  one  of  hardship  by  re- 
fraining from  every  form  of  physical  exertion,  but 
a  day  of  recreation,  a  day  when  one  could  interrupt 
the  labours  of  the  week  and  gather  fresh  strength 
for  the  coming  week.  In  other  words,  the  Sabbath 
was  a  humane  institution.  But  the  evidences  of 
laxity  in  the  observance  may  also  be  regarded  as 
a  proof  that  this  kind  of  a  Sabbath  remained  to  a 
large  extent  an  ideal.  We  may  question,  in  fact, 
whether  in  an  agricultural  community  a  strict  ob- 
servance of  a  cessation  from  all  labour  every  sev- 
enth day  was  feasible.  During  a  part  of  the  year 
work  in  the  fields  is  of  such  importance  that  a 
day  lost  may  prove  a  very  serious  disadvantage. 
We  must  not,  however,  press  this  point  too  far, 
and  it  may  be  granted  that  in  a  general  way  it 
became  customary  among  the  Hebrews  to  inter- 
rupt the  ordinary  vocation  during  one  day  in  the 
week. 

Now,  by  the  side  of  this  humane  purpose  we  find 
traces  in  other  portions  of  the  Codes  of  a  more  aus- 
tere significance  given  to  the  Sabbath.  When  we 
are  told,  for  example,  that  the  people  were  forbid- 
den to  leave  their  houses  on  the 'Sabbath  day,2  not 
to  kindle  any  fires,3  and  therefore  not  to  eat  any- 
thing cooked  on  a  fire,4  it  may,  of  course,  be  argued 
that  such  restrictions  represent  the  endeavours  of 
the  postexilic  period  to  project  the  strict  regula- 
tions   back    into    early    days.     Such    an    argument 

1  Ex.  23  :  12.  2  Ex.  16  :  29.         3  Ex.  35:3.  4  Ex.  16  :  23. 


HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  SABBATH       169 

seems  to  me,  however,  to  be  forced,  and  if  one  reads 
the  passages  carefully  in  which  these  restrictions  are 
specified,  one  gains  the  impression  that  they  repre- 
sent a  genuine  tradition  and  point  to  a  survival  of 
earlier  ideas  associated  with  the  Sabbath.  I  am  in- 
clined to  lay  particular  stress  upon  the  reference  to 
a  prohibition  of  the  use  of  fire,  for  the  reason  that 
fire  among  all  nations  was  looked  upon  as  a  sacred 
element.  There  are  abundant  traces  of  this  view 
in  the  Old  Testament;  witness  the  scene  in  the  book 
of  Exodus  in  which  Yahweh  Himself  appears  in  the 
fire  of  the  burning  bush,1  and  the  statement  that 
the  voice  of  Yahweh  was  heard  out  of  the  smoke 
and  thunder  and  lightning  of  Mount  Sinai.2  Fire 
as  a  sacred  element  had  to  be  used  with  precaution. 
The  sons  of  Aaron  suffer  instant  death  because  they 
brought  a  "strange  fire"  into  the  sanctuary,3  a 
phrase  which  we  would  be  at  a  loss  to  understand, 
unless  it  meant  that  the  fire  as  a  sacred  element 
had  not  been  kindled  with  the  proper  ceremonial. 

If,  therefore,  the  people  are  cautioned  against 
using  fire  on  a  certain  day,  is  it  not  a  natural  in- 
ference that  the  day  itself  was  unfavourable  for  such 
purposes?  Again,  it  will  certainly  be  admitted  that 
the  prohibition  to  leave  one's  house  is  hardly  con- 
sistent with  an  institution  which  interprets  cessa- 
tion from  labour  as  a  means  of  "refreshing  oneself." 
Staying  in  the  house  all  day  would  hardly  be  re- 
garded as  an  essential  condition  to  recreation.  The 
precaution  not  to  leave  one's  house  is  rather  of  the 

1  Ex.  3:4.  2  Ex.  19  :  16-20.  3  Lev.  10  :  1-2. 


170    HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

same  order  as  the  prohibition  in  the  nineteenth 
chapter  of  Exodus  (vss.  12-13)  in  which  the  people 
are  cautioned  not  to  approach  the  sacred  mountain: 
"Take  heed  to  yourselves  that  you  go  not  up  into 
the  mount,  or  touch  the  border  of  it."  In  accordance 
with  this  we  are  told  that  the  people  "removed  and 
stood  afar  off."  If  one  is  prohibited  from  actu- 
ally leaving  one's  dwelling,  the  natural  inference  is 
that  there  is  some  danger  lurking  from  which  one 
can  protect  one's  self  only  by  remaining  within  doors. 
The  incident  of  the  wood-gatherer  on  the  Sabbath 
day  (Num.  15  :  32-36),  whose  case  is  brought  be- 
fore Moses,  and  who,  by  the  decision  of  the  latter, 
is  stoned,  shows  that  the  point  of  view  is  not  cessa- 
tion from  labour,  in  which  case  the  statement  that 
"it  was  not  clear  what  should  be  done  to  him" 
(vs.  34)  would  be  superfluous,  but  rather  the  danger 
of  the  act  on  an  inauspicious  day.  The  point  which 
I  wish  to  emphasise  is  that  in  such  incidental  refer- 
ences we  may  recognise  the  traces  of  an  earlier 
point  of  view  associated  with  particular  days,  or 
with  a  particular  period  when  special  precautions 
had  to  be  exercised  so  as  not  to  arouse  the  wrath 
of  the  deity  by  some  act  however  innocent  in  itself. 
Now,  the  Babylonian  shabattum,  as  a  day  of  paci- 
fication, was  an  occasion  of  this  kind,  and  it  is  just 
here  where  the  connection  may  be  recognised  be- 
tween the  Babylonian  and  the  Hebrew  Sabbath. 
Another  point  of  contact  of  the  same  general  char- 
acter is  the  observance  of  the  Sabbath  every  sev- 
enth  day.     The  number  seven  plays  a  great  role 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  SABBATH       171 

among  the  Semites,1  and  may,  no  doubt,  ultimately 
be  connected  with  the  moon  changing  its  phases 
every  seven  days.  It  is  because  seven  marks  a  pe- 
riod that  the  work  of  creation  is  described  as  being 
accomplished  in  seven  days,  though  we  have  seen 
that,  outside  of  this  point  of  view,  no  special  signifi- 
cance is  to  be  attached  to  the  enumeration  of  the 
order  of  Creation  in  six  divisions.  But,  on  the 
other  hand,  in  the  separation  of  the  observance  of 
the  Sabbath  from  the  periods  corresponding  to  the 
four  phases  of  the  moon,  which  we  have  seen  play 
such  a  part  in  Babylonian  and  Assyrian  astrology, 
we  have  again  an  illustration  of  the  wide  departure 
of  the  Hebrew  religion  from  the  course  followed  in 
the  development  of  religious  thought  and  of  relig- 
ious institutions  among  the  Babylonians  and  As- 
syrians. The  Babylonian  shabattum  never  changed 
its  character.  It  remained  for  all  times  an  urn  nukh 
libbi — a  day  marking  a  transition  in  the  monthly 
course  of  the  moon,  on  which  special  precautions 
had  to  be  observed,  marked  by  rites  intended  to 
appeal  to  the  angered  god  or  goddess  in  the  hope 
that  it  might  become  a  "day  of  pacification,"  by 
which  was  primarily  meant  the  hope  that  the  anx- 
ious transition  period  might  take  place  at  the  nor- 
mal time.  This  shabattum  as  an  austere  and  som- 
bre occasion  partakes  more  of  a  day  of  atonement, 
such  as  is  prescribed  in  the  Priestly  Code,2  on  which 

1  See  Hehn,  Siebenzahl  und  Sabbat,  pp.  1-44,  for  illustrations  among 
Babylonians  and  Assyrians. 

2  Lev.  23  :  27-32.     This  day  of  atonement^  though  not  introduced  till 
the  postexilic  period  as  a  distinctively  Jewish  festival,  is  based  on  an  old 


172    HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

the  people  were  ordered  to  castigate  the  flesh  by 
abstaining  from  food  and  to  implore  the  Deity  for 
forgiveness  of  their  sins,1  that  is,  for  a  removal  of 
the  divine  wrath.  It  is,  perhaps  not  accidental  that 
this  Hebrew  day  of  atonement,  which,  increasing 
in  austerity,  retains  its  severe  and  rather  gloomy 
character  to  this  day  in  the  orthodox  Jewish  ritual, 
where  it  is  designated  as  an  "awful  day"  (yom 
riora) — a  veritable  dies  ira — should  have  been  des- 
ignated by  a  term  shabbathon?  which  forms  a  more 
complete  parallel  to  the  Babylonian  shabattum  than 

institution,  as  the  rite  of  sending  a  goat  laden  with  the  sins  of  the  people 
into  the  wilderness  (Lev.  16  :  10)  sufficiently  shows. 

1  Sin,  according  to  the  general  Semitic  point  of  view,  manifests  itself 
through  some  actual  misfortune  that  has  set  in. 

2  Lev.  23  132.  The  word  shabbathon  contains  an  old  ending,  on,  which 
corresponds  to  the  final  urn  in  shabattum.  (The  interchange  from  m 
to  n  is  frequent  in  Semitic  languages.)  The  ordinary  translation  of 
shabbathon  by  "sabbaths"  is  a  mere  guess,  for  the  ending  on  does  not 
designate  a  plural.  To  be  sure,  in  the  passage  in  question  we  find  shab- 
bath  added  to  shabbathon,  but  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  this  is  a  sub- 
sequent addition,  or  perhaps  a  gloss  of  some  late  editor,  who,  no  longer 
understanding  the  original  connotation  of  shabbathon,  suggested  an  iden- 
tification with  shabbath.  The  gloss  then  crept  into  the  text — as  glosses 
in  ancient  manuscripts  generally  did — and  we  obtain  the  meaningless 
description  of  the  '  day  of  atonement*  as  a  shabbath  shabbathon,  which,  as 
a  makeshift,  was  interpreted  as  "  sabbath  of  sabbaths,"  or  as  a  "sabbath  of 
rest,"  which  is  still  more  meaningless,  since  every  Sabbath  is  a  Sabbath 
of  rest.  The  use  of  shabbathon  by  itself  in  verse  24  of  the  chapter  for 
the  first  day  of  the  seventh  month,  which,  according  to  Ezekiel  (45  :  20, 
following  the  reading  of  the  Greek  version),  was  a  day  of  atonement,  is  a 
proof  for  the  thesis  here  maintained.  To  be  sure,  the  first,  fifteenth,  and 
twenty-second  days  of  the  seventh  month,  i.  e.,  the  New  Year's  Day,  the 
beginning,  and  end  of  the  harvest  festival,  are  also  designated  as  shabbathon 
in  this  twenty-third  chapter,  which  is  composite  in  character;  but  these 
days  are  also  of  the  nature  of  transition  periods.  The  application  of  the 
term  shabbathon  to  them  points  to  the  use  that  the  term  had  acquired  to 
designate  an  "austere"  day,  because  of  the  association  of  this  quality 
with  the  shabattum  as  the  "full-moon"  period.  Shabbathon  would  thus 
have  the  force  of  a  "sabbatical"  day — a  day  having  the  character  of  a 
"Sabbath"  in  the  original  sense  of  a  "transition"  period. 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  SABBATH       173 

the  ordinary  Hebrew  expression  shabbath.  This  He- 
brew shabbathon  is  thus  a  genuine  counterpart  to  a 
Babylonian  um  nukh  libbi,  whereas  the  Hebrew 
Sabbath,  steadily  moving  away  from  its  earlier  con- 
notation, assumed  a  totally  different  character,  and 
became  one  of  the  most  significant  contributions  of 
the  Hebrews  to  the  spiritual  treasury  of  mankind. 
Its  separation  from  any  association  with  the  moon's 
phases,  to  be  celebrated  every  seventh  day  with- 
out reference  to  a  lunar  calendar,  marked  the  com- 
plete departure  from  the  character  of  the  Babylo- 
nian shabattum.  In  no  more  effective  way  could 
the  new  meaning  that  the  day  had  acquired  be  em- 
phasised. With  that  separation  from  the  moon's 
phases  the  transition  motif  passed  away  to  leave 
only  faint  traces  of  the  force  it  had  once  enjoyed 
among  the  Hebrews  in  common  with  the  Babylo- 
nians and  Assyrians.  The  link  uniting  Hebrew  and 
Babylonian  traditions  was  snapped,  never  to  be 
forged  again. 

To  sum  up,  then,  we  have  traces  among  the  He- 
brews of  lucky  and  unlucky  days,  of  a  significance 
attached  to  periods  of  transition,  of  the  importance 
of  the  new-moon  and  of  the  full-moon,  of  the  special 
import  connected  with  the  number  seven,  of  pre- 
cautions exercised  on  certain  days  which  have  left 
their  traces  in  some  of  the  Sabbath  regulations  of 
the  Pentateuchal  Codes.  But,  starting  from  this 
common  ground,  the  Hebrews  developed  an  entirely 
distinct  institution  which  retained  little  except  the 
name  in  common  with  the  Babylonian  counterpart. 


174    HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

The  Sabbath  as  a  distinctively  Hebrew  rite  starts 
out  as  a  humane  institution  with  a  view  to  secure  for 
the  people  recreation  from  the  labours  of  the  week, 
and  to  offer  an  opportunity  particularly  for  those  in 
a  dependent  position  to  "refresh  themselves."  This 
Sabbath  ordained  for  every  seventh  day  without 
reference  to  the  phases  of  the  moon,  becomes  an 
entirely  unique  institution.  The  idea  of  resting 
becomes  a  significant  expression  of  the  ethical  view 
of  human  life  and  of  its  relationship  to  the  Divine 
as  implied  in  the  utterances  of  the  Hebrew  Prophets. 
The  material  conception  of  labour  was  given  a  spir- 
itual interpretation  through  the  sanctification  of 
labour  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  recognition,  on  the 
other  hand,  of  the  obligations  of  the  one  who  em- 
ploys labour.  One  day  was  to  be  set  aside  on  which 
all  classes  should  be  placed  on  a  level  of  equality. 
Even  the  animal  subject  entirely  to  the  will  of  man 
should  enjoy  a  Sabbath.  Nor  should  any  distinc- 
tion be  drawn  between  the  citizen  and  the  stranger. 
All  classes  alike  should  have  the  benefit  of  a  day 
set  apart  from  the  other  days  of  the  week  as  sacred. 


V 

The  question  now  arises  at  what  period  in 
Hebrew  history  shall  we  place  the  line  of  demarca- 
tion leading  by  a  further  process  to  the  distinc- 
tively Hebrew  Sabbath?  If,  as  I  believe,  the  Deca- 
logue in  its  original  form  dates  from  the  days  of 
Moses,  the  connotation  of  the  day  as  "holy"  marks 


HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  SABBATH       175 

the  first  step.     It  is  not  necessary,  and  perhaps  not 
justifiable,  to  assume  that  in  the  form  given  to  the 
fourth  commandment  by  the  traditional  organiser 
of  the   Hebrew   tribes   into   a   nation  the   Sabbath 
was  ordained  as  a  day  of  rest.     To  Moses,  Yahweh 
was  still  essentially  the  God  of  the  Hebrews,  the 
old   tribal  deity  who  had   become  the  special  pro- 
tector of  the  new  nation  formed  by  the  union  of 
the  separate  tribes,  and  who  in   return  demanded 
loyalty  and  obedience  from  his  special  charges;  but 
it  is  obviously  with  intent  that  the  day  is  desig- 
nated in  the  Decalogue  as  "holy."     However  much 
more  the  term  came  to  mean  with  the  further  de- 
velopment of  the  ethical  ideals  of  the  Prophets,  it 
certainly  had  when  applied  to  a  particular  day  at 
all  times  a  higher  connotation  than  is  involved  in- 
designating  a  day  as  limnu  or  tabu,  as  "unlucky"  or 
"lucky."    The  Babylonian  shabattum  was  dreaded 
as  an  "unlucky"  day  which  it  was  hoped  by  ap- 
peals to  an  arbitrary  deity  to  convert  into  a  "lucky" 
one.    The  Yahweh  of  Moses,  as  the  earlier  Yahweh 
of  tribal  days,  could  be  angry,  and,  indeed,  the  Pen- 
tateuchal  narratives  of  the  times  of  Moses  are  full 
of  occasions  when  the  national  protector  manifested 
his  displeasure;  but  he  is  not  a  deity  whose  humour  ^ 
is   dependent   upon    a   particular   season.     Yahweh 
still  manifests  himself  in  thunder  and  lightning,  and 
in  so  far  shows  traces  of  His  origin  as  a  storm-god 
dwelling  on  the  top  of  the   mountains  whence  the 
storms  come.     Even  in  late  Psalms,  where  original 
conceptions  of  Yahweh  leave  their  traces  in  poet- 


176    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

ical  metaphors,  Yahweh  is  represented  as  treading 
on  the  high  mountains  whose  voice  is  heard  in  the 
thunder,1  but  Yahweh's  anger  is  never  aroused  with- 
out just  cause.  The  advance  in  Moses'  conception 
of  a  national  deity  over  national  or  tribal  gods  of 
the  groups  closely  allied  to  the  Hebrews,  like  the 
Moabites  whose  national  deity  was  Kemosh,  or  like 
the  Ammonites  whose  special  protector  was  called 
Milkom,  consisted  in  representing  Yahweh  as  ruling 
His  people  by  laws  of  justice  tinged  with  mercy. 
It  is  from  this  point  of  view  that  we  must  view  the 
tradition  which  makes  Moses  the  author  of  He- 
brew legislation.  Moses  becomes  in  tradition  a 
law-giver,  and  a  portion  of  the  Pentateuchal  laws 
in  their  original  form  can  indeed  be  traced  back  to 
his  period 2 — because  Yahweh  rules  according  to 
law  and  not  caprice.  But  a  deity  who  thus  mani- 
fests   himself,   obedience  to  whom   is   set  forth   in 

1  See,  e.  g.,  Psalm  29 — above  p.  123. 

2  In  saying  this,  let  me  not  be  misunderstood  as  assuming  that  we  have 
these  laws  in  their  ancient  form,  or  that  Moses  himself  wrote  down  any 
laws  or  any  portion  of  the  Decalogue.  For  centuries  laws,  which  after  all 
represent  merely  established  usage,  must  have  been  transmitted  orally, 
as  poetic  utterances  were  so  handed  down  from  generation  to  genera- 
tion. The  Song  of  Deborah  in  Judges,  chapter  5,  bears  all  the  earmarks 
of  a  contemporary  production,  and  yet  it  could  not  have  been  written 
down  for  three  or  four  centuries  after  the  events  that  it  celebrates.  So 
in  regard  to  those  portions  of  the  Pentateuchal  Codes  which  are  to  be 
carried  back  to  the  Mosaic  period  merely  because  they  fit  in  with  con- 
ditions that  prevailed  at  the  time,  we  must  assume  that  they  formed  the 
basis  of  decisions,  but  that  they  were  transmitted  orally,  and  no  doubt 
were  subject  to  all  kinds  of  minor  modifications  before  being  written 
down,  and,  even  after  they  were  committed  to  writing  subject  to  constant 
amplifications,  and  to  combination  with  later  enactments.  Moses  is 
simply  the  great  traditional  figure  that  stands  out  at  the  beginning  of 
Israel's  national  existence,  just  as  the  names  of  certain  Prophets  become 
typical  for  a  later  period. 


HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  SABBATH       177 

statutes  and  ordinances  based  upon  justice,  is  a  holy 
god— a  god  marked  by  attributes  that  separate  him 
from  mere  personifications  of  natural  forces.      We 
shall  have  occasion  to  see1  that  Babylonians  as  well 
as  Assyrians  attributed  ethical  motives  likewise  to 
some  of  their  gods  and  goddesses,  and  that  there 
was  indeed  a  striking  development  of  the  ethical  con- 
ception of  divine  power  among  them,  but  that  did 
not   hinder    even  gods  like  Shamash  the  sun-god, 
who  is  primarily  the  god  of  justice  in  both  Baby- 
lonia and  Assyria,  from  being  arbitrary  in  dispens- 
ing favours  or  in  showing  displeasure.     As  we  shall 
have  occasion  to  point  out  in  further  detail  in  a 
subsequent  chapter,  the  consciousness  that  the  dei- 
ties were  personifications  of  natural  forces  or  of  nat- 
ural phenomena  never  died  out  in  Babylonia  and 
Assyria.     Despite  the  infusion  of  higher  ideas  into 
the  conception  of  Shamash,  he  remained  the  sun- 
god— the  personification  of  the  great  orb  of  light. 
Yahweh,  in  becoming  a  "holy"  god,  was  placed  on 
the  highroad  leading  to  the  disassociation  from  the 
personification  of  the  storm  as  which  he  started  out. 
The  process,  however,  must  have  been  of  gradual 
and,  on  the  whole,  of  slow  growth  for,  as  already 
suggested,  many  passages  in  the  Pentateuchal  narra- 
tives, which  bear  all  indications  of  having  preserved 
traditions  in  an  early  form  (though  not  necessarily 
in  their  original  form),  still  reveal  the  conception 
of  Yahweh  as  a  product  of  the  animistic   stage  of 
religion.     Another  factor  that  led  in  the  same  di- 

1  Chapter  V. 


178    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

rection  was  the  recognition  of  Yahweh  as  the  only- 
god  of  the  people.     The  evidence  is  abundant  that 
this  was  part  of  the  work  accomplished  by  Moses. 
The  emphasis  laid  upon  the  unique  relation  of  Yah- 
weh to  his  people,  though  paralleled  in  a  measure 
by  the  position  of  Kemosh  among  the  Moabites, 
and  of  Milkom  for  the  Ammonites,  was  yet  peculiar 
in  this  respect,  that  Yahweh  absolutely  brooked  no 
rival.     Not  even  a  consort  was  given  to  him,  whereas 
the   famous   Moabite   stone1 — the   most   significant 
monument  of  Palestinian  religious  ideas  prevailing 
in  the  ninth  century   B.   C. — shows  that   Kemosh 
had  a  consort  and  was  surrounded  by  a  court  of 
minor  deities;    and  the  same  was,   no  doubt,  the 
case  among  other  Palestinian  groups  of  tribes.     The 
influence  of  the  new  teaching  is  to  be  seen  when  the 
Hebrews,  dispossessing  the  Canaanitish   settlers   of 
Palestine  proper,  and   adopting,  with   the  transfer 
from  the  nomadic  to  the  agricultural  stage  of  life, 
the  Baal  cult  of  the   Canaanites,  convert  Yahweh 
into  a  Canaanitish  Baal.2     The  old  storm-god  takes 
on  the  traits  of  a  solar  deity  presiding  over  agri- 
culture, such  as  the  local  Baals   everywhere  were. 
It  is  against  the  rites  connected  with  the  Baal  cult 
that  leaders  like  Elijah  and  Elisha  and  the  earlier 
Prophets  protest  as  incompatible  with  Yahweh  wor- 
ship, but  it  is  clear  that  the  people  as  such  were 
not  only  unconscious  of  any  defection,  but  believed 
that  they  were  doing  honour  to  their  national  god 

1  See  the  article  on  the  subject  under  "Moab,"  in  Hastings's  Diction- 
ary  of  the  Bible,  or  in  the  Encyclopedia  Biblica. 

2  See  above,  p.  29. 


HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  SABBATH       179 

by  giving  him  the  attributes  of  Baal.  With  one 
deity  gathering  to  himself  the  attributes  of  all  other 
personifications  of  natural  powers,  the  tendency  in- 
evitably sets  in  to  disassociate  Yahweh  from  any 
particular  personification.  A  storm-god  who  is  also 
a  sun-god,  who  is  a  god  presiding  over  fertility 
among  men  and  animals,  and  who  is  furthermore 
a  god  of  vegetation,  who  is  a  god  of  war,  and  who 
protects  the  boundaries  of  fields,  who  is  a  god  of 
wisdom,  giving  laws  to  his  people,  and  through 
whose  oracles  the  future  is  divined — in  short,  a  god 
who  possesses  all  the  qualities  ordinarily  distributed 
among  the  members  of  an  extensive  pantheon — is 
on  the  way  to  become  the  symbol  of  divine  power 
in  general,  and  is  permanently  removed  from  the 
conception  of  a  mere  personification  of  some  phe- 
nomenon of  nature. 

The  transfer  of  the  attributes  of  the  Canaanitish 
Baals  to  Yahweh  upon  the  conquest  of  Canaan  by 
the  Hebrews  and  their  permanent  advance  to  the 
agricultural  stage  of  culture  entails  another  conse- 
quence that  must  have  acted  as  a  factor  of  no  small 
import  in  leading,  by  a  slow  process  of  evolution,  to 
a  more  spiritual  conception  of  Yahweh.  The  tribal 
deity  of  the  Hebrews  or  of  some  of  the  tribes  that 
eventually  formed  part  of  the  later  confederation 
had  his  seat  on  the  top  of  Mount  Sinai.  It  mat- 
ters little  for  our  purposes  whether  Yahweh  was 
originally  the  national  deity  of  the  Midianites,1  and 

1  See  Gressmann,  Mose  und  seine  Zeit,  pp.  434  seq.  This  is  also  the 
view  of  Eduard  Meyer,  Die  Israeliten  und  ihre  Nachbarstdmme,  p.  6j,  and 
of  Budde,  Religion  of  Israel  to  the  Exile,  pp.  19  seq. 


180    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

that  some  Hebrew  tribes  adopted  him  through  their 
affiliations  with  Midianites.  The  supposition  has, 
I  believe,  much  in  its  favour;  but,  whatever  our 
attitude  towards  it  may  be,  the  important  fact 
about  which  there  can  be  no  dispute  is  that  Mount 
Sinai  represents  the  original  seat  of  Yahweh.  Now, 
already  in  the  Song  of  Deborah,1  the  authentic 
character  of  which  as  a  contemporaneous  document, 
though  not  committed  to  writing  for  several  centu- 
ries, at  least,  after  the  event  that  it  celebrates,  is 
beyond  dispute,2  Yahweh  is  represented  as  coming 
from  Mount  Seir  in  Edom,  while  at  the  same  time  his 
seat  on  Mount  Sinai  is  also  referred  to.  What  can 
this  mean  except  that  Yahweh  wanders  with  his 
people  from  place  to  place?  He  comes  from  Sinai 
to  Mount  Seir  as  he  comes  to  Kadesh,  where  the 
people  settle  for  some  time;  and  accordingly,  when 
the  Hebrews  came  to  Palestine  proper,  Yahweh's 
central  sanctuary  is  eventually  placed  on  Mount 
Zion,  an  ancient  sacred  centre  with  which  Yah- 
weh originally  had  nothing  to  do.3  The  ark  or  box 
containing  some  symbol  of  Yahweh's  presence — 
perhaps  a  sacred  stone — is  carried  about  from  place 
to  place;  and  later  tradition  assumes  that  there 
was  also  a  portable  sanctuary  within  which  the  box 
was  placed.  The  important  feature  in  all  these 
traditions  is  that  Yahweh  actually  leaves  his  origi- 
nal seat  and  makes  his  presence  felt  wherever  his 
people  happen  to  be.  This  disassociation  of  a  na- 
tional deity  from  any  particular  spot  reaches  its 

1  Judges  5  :  4-5.         2  See  above,  p.  176,  note  2.         3  Above,  p.  26. 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  SABBATH       181 

climax  in  the  identification  of  Yahweh  with  the 
large  number  of  local  Baals  of  the  Canaanites. 
Each  large  centre  as  well  as  all  the  smaller  ones 
had  a  Baal,  who  was  a  local  deity  regarded  as  the 
protector  of  the  fields  of  the  district.  With  Yahweh 
identified  with  every  one  of  these  local  deities,  the 
conception  of  a  deity  confined  to  one  locality  neces- 
sarily disappears.  The  Yahweh  sanctuaries  scat- 
tered throughout  the  country  upon  the  complete 
dispossession  of  the  Canaanites  through  the  He- 
brews, expressed  more  effectively  than  any  mere  for- 
mula could  that  Yahweh  was  not  limited  to  any  sin- 
gle locality,  that  he  was  no  longer  a  local  god,  but 
was  to  be  found  wherever  his  people  had  taken  pos- 
session. His  jurisdiction  was  coextensive  with  the 
geographical  boundaries  of  Israel.  It  was,  indeed, 
limited  by  these  boundaries  to  such  an  extent  that 
David  could  complain  that  he  had  been  driven  out 
of  Yahweh's  presence  because  forced  by  Saul  to  pass 
over  into  the  territory  of  the  Philistines;  but  within 
the  political  domain  of  Israel,  Yahweh  could  be  wor- 
shipped everywhere.  It  thus  turns  out  that  the 
assimilation  of  the  Yahweh  cult  to  the  Baal  cults 
against  which  tradition  makes  Elijah  and  Elisha 
voice  their  protest  represents  in  reality  an  advance 
in  the  conception  of  Yahweh,  leading  in  the  direc- 
tion of  giving  him  a  character  different  from  both 
national  and  local  deities  of  other  groups,  inasmuch 
as  he  is  not  localised  in  any  particular  centre.  From 
this  point  of  view,  the  later  endeavour  to  centralise 
the  cult  in  the  temple  at  Jerusalem,  advocated  by 


182    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

the  Deuteronomic  Code  and  assumed  by  the  later 
ones,  is  really  a  step  backward,  inasmuch  as  it  again 
laid  so  strong  an  emphasis  upon  the  presence  of 
Yahweh  in  one  particular  spot.  Yet,  for  all  that, 
the  instinct  of  Elijah  and  Elisha  in  opposing  the 
Baal  rites  was  correct,  for  these  rites  were  foreign 
and  their  adoption  by  the  Hebrews  was  due  to  the 
popular  belief  that  what  past  experience  had  shown 
the  Canaanites  to  be  the  proper  method  of  secur- 
ing the  favour  of  the  local  Baals  and  of  the  spirits 
supposed  to  house  in  the  fields  must  be  continued 
by  the  conquerors  in  order  to  insure  for  them  also 
the  rich  blessings  of  the  soil.  The  rites,  moreover, 
involved  symbols  like  the  Asherah  pole,  the  symbol- 
ical dedication  of  children  by  passing  them  through 
the  fire,  and  perhaps  also  child  sacrifice  before  un- 
dertaking the  building  of  a  house  or  some  other 
enterprise,  which  were  distasteful  in  the  eyes  of 
purists,  as  well  as  foreign  in  origin;  but  in  large 
measure  the  delocalisation  of  Yahweh  implied  by 
his  leaving  Mount  Sinai  to  wander  with  his  people, 
and  then  to  become  identified  with  the  local  agri- 
cultural deities  of  the  Canaanites,  paved  the  way 
for  a  more  spiritual  conception  of  Yahweh  as  a 
deity  not  limited  to  any  special  place.  The  process 
of  thought  involved  does  not  necessarily  lead  to 
monotheism,  but  it  favours  this  issue,  which  was  to 
be  brought  about  in  due  time. 

A  fourth  feature  of  no  less  significance  was  the 
emphasis  laid  upon  imageless  worship  of  Yahweh, 
which  we  may  likewise  trace  back  to  the  days  of 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  SABBATH       183 

Moses,  even  though  we  find  a  symbol  like  that  of 
the  brazen  serpent  surviving  to  the  days  of  Heze- 
kiah.1  Appealing  to  the  image  of  a  serpent  as  a 
means  of  cure  from  serpent  bites  falls  within  the 
category  of  sympathetic  magic,2  of  which  there  are 
many  other  traces  among  the  Hebrews  to  a  relatively 
late  period;  but  the  brazen  serpent  was,  we  may 
feel  sure,  never  regarded  as  an  image  of  Yahweh. 
The  Books  of  Kings  and  the  writings  of  the  Prophets 
show  us  that,  under  the  influence  of  the  Canaanites 
and  other  groups  in  Palestine  and  surrounding  dis- 
tricts, the  Hebrews  had  adopted  theAsherah  symbol3 
— a  pole  standing  next  to  the  altar — that  images  of 
Malik  and  of  other  deities  were  set  up  in  and  around 
Jerusalem;4  but  here,  too,  we  may  question  whether 
the  people,  although  they  heaped  upon  Yahweh  the 
attributes  of  all  other  gods,  assumed  that  any  of 
these  symbols  and  images  were  pictures  of  Yahweh. 
At  the  most,  we  must  conclude  that  Moses  was  not 
as  successful  in  bringing  about  imageless  worship  as 
he  was  in  imbuing  the  people  with  the  view  that 
Yahweh  was  the  only  god  of  the  people,  and  that 
as  such  he  concentrated  within  himself  the  powers 
and  attributes  of  all  others.  "Who  is  like  unto 
thee,  O  Yahweh,  among  the  gods?"5  Though  per- 
haps slower  in  making  itself  felt,  the  influence  of 
the   doctrine,   "Thou   shalt  not   make  any  graven 

1 II  Kings  18  :  4. 

2  See,  for  numerous  illustrations  of  the  various  kinds  of  sympathetic 
magic,  Frazer,  The  Magic  Art,  chapter  3  (London,  191 1). 

3  Above,  p.  31.  *  See,  e.  g.,  II  Kings  chapter  23. 
6  Ex.  15  :  11. 


184    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

image,"1  must  nevertheless  have  worked  as  a  leaven 
in  raising  the  popular  conception  of  Yahweh,  and 
in  leading  them  eventually  to  disassociate  him  from 
any  specific  personification  of  a  natural  force,  in 
bringing  about  a  spiritual  conception  of  a  divine 
protector  which  was  to  find  its  more  complete  ex- 
pression in  the  utterances  of  the  Prophets  of  the 
eighth  and  seventh  centuries. 

VI 

We  are  not  in  a  position  to  trace  in  detail  the 
further  development  of  the  Sabbath  institution  from 
a  shabattum  to  a  day  of  recreation  from  the  labours 
of  the  week,  but  for  our  purposes  it  is  sufficient  to 
recognise  the  line  of  demarcation  signalled  by  the 
designation  of  the  day  as  "holy."  We  may,  per- 
haps, go  a  step  further  and  attribute  to  the  period 
of  Moses  the  institution  of  every  seventh  day  as 
holy,  though  the  original  form  of  the  text  in  both 
Decalogues  merely  specifies  "the  day  of  the  Sab- 
bath." Be  that  as  it  may  be,  the  separation  of  the 
day  from  the  phases  of  the  moon  would  follow  as  a 
natural  corollary  from  the  conception  of  the  day  as 
"holy" — set  aside  by  a  god  whose  chief  trait  was 
likewise  holiness. 

The  references  that  we  have  to  the  Sabbath  in 
the  Books  of  Kings  would  seem  to  indicate  that  up 
to  the  time  of  the  exile  the  Sabbath  had  not  yet 

1  Ex.  20  :  4;  Deut.  5  :  8 — so  the  original  form  of  the  commandment 
to  which  as  usual  a  "Gemarah"  in  the  form  of  decisions  amplifying  the 
"Mishnah"  is  attached. 


HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  SABBATH       185 

assumed  the  character  which  we  are  accustomed  to 
associate  with  it.  From  passages  above  cited,1  we 
must  conclude,  as  pointed  out,  that  there  was  still 
preserved  in  the  mind  of  the  people  an  association 
of  the  Sabbath  with  the  new-moon.  The  associa- 
tion was  due,  no  doubt,  primarily  to  the  force  of 
tradition,  and  may  have  become  a  semiconscious 
one — a  mere  conventional  usage;  but  a  passage  like 
II  Kings  4  :  23,  from  the  days  of  Jehoram  the  son 
of  Ahab  (c.  800  B.  C),  indicating  the  custom  of 
going  to  a  "man  of  God,"  that  is,  to  a  diviner,  on 
the  Sabbath  day,  to  secure  an  oracular  answer  to 
some  question,  is  significant  as  a  testimony  that  at 
the  end  of  the  ninth  century  the  Sabbath  had  not 
yet  acquired  the  character  of  a  day  of  rest.  It  had, 
however,  become  a  "holy"  day,  albeit  the  popular 
idea  of  holiness  still  connected  it  with  a  favourable 
occasion  for  consulting  the  oracle.  On  the  other 
hand,  assuming  that  the  passage  belongs  to  the  au- 
thentic portion  of  Amos,  which  I  see  no  reason  to 
question,  Amos's  complaint  of  the  greed  of  the  peo- 
ple who  cannot  wait  till  the  end  of  the  Sabbath 
day  in  order  to  carry  on  barter  and  exchange,2  and 
Jeremiah's  vain  appeal 3  to  the  people  not  to  carry 
burdens  into  Jerusalem  or  out  of  Jerusalem,  nor  to 
do  any  work  on  the  Sabbath  day,  shows  that  the 
Sabbath  restriction  against  the  ordinary  pursuits  of 
the  week  was  already  recognised,  though  the  force 
of  the  argument  is  lessened  somewhat  by  the  juxta- 
position in  Amos  of  the  Sabbath  with  the  new-moon, 

1  See  pp.  154  seq.  2  Amos  8:5.  3  Jer.  17  :  21-24. 


186    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

for  which  a  similar  restraint  must  be  assumed.  The 
same  applies  to  Isa.  1:13,  where  we  again  find  this 
association  with  the  new-moon,  though  the  juxta- 
position in  the  following  verse  of  "new-moons  and 
fixed  festivals"  is  an  indication  that  the  phrase 
"new-moons  and  sabbaths"  had  become  a  purely 
conventional  one,  and  can  no  longer  be  used  to  prove 
that  in  the  actual  cult  the  Sabbath  was  dependent 
upon  the  phases  of  the  moon.  Both  passages — the 
one  in  Amos  and  the  one  in  Isaiah — point  to  sacri- 
fices as  a  prominent  feature  of  the  official  observ- 
ance of  the  Sabbath  in  the  temple  during  the  eighth 
century.  Ail  this  leads  us  to  the  period  of  the  Exile 
as  the  time  when  the  Sabbath  assumed  its  definite 
character  as  a  sacred  day  of  rest.  The  destruction 
of  national  independence,  with  its  accompanying 
temporary  extinction  of  national  life,  forms  the  crit- 
ical juncture  in  the  religious  evolution  of  the  He- 
brews, leading  definitely  from  Hebraism  to  Judaism. 
The  period  before  the  Exile  may  be  designated  as 
the  preparation  for  Judaism,  the  Exile  as  Juda- 
ism in  the  making,  and  the  postexilic  age  as  Judaism 
made  and  paving  the  way  for  Talmudical  Judaism, 
on  the  one  hand,  and  for  Christianity  on  the  other. 
It  was  during  the  Exile  that  the  spirit  manifested 
its  fullest  force  which  prompted  writers  imbued 
with  the  high  ethical  ideals  and  religious  fervour  of 
the  Prophets  to  review  the  past  history  of  the  peo- 
ple1 from  the  point  of  view  of  relationship  to  a  deity 
who  was  conceived  as  a  spiritual  Power  of  universal 

1  See  above,  pp.  45  seq. 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  SABBATH       187 

scope,  ruling  by  self-imposed  laws  of  righteousness 
and  demanding  obedience  to  ethical  ideals  as  the 
absolute  condition  of  His  favour  and  mercy.  The 
popular  myths  and  early  traditions  were  interpreted 
in  the  light  of  the  teachings  of  the  Prophets,  as  il- 
lustrations of  the  conception  of  a  universal  God  en- 
throned in  righteousness  and  holiness;  and  the  legisla- 
tion likewise  became  saturated  with  the  same  spirit. 
Not  that  the  process  was  completed  by  the  time  of 
the  partial  restoration  of  the  Jewish  state  under  the 
benign  Persian  protectorate,  for  we  must  come  down 
at  least  a  century  further  before  the  spirit  created 
by  the  Exile  had  spent  its  entire  force  to  give  way 
to  a  new  movement  in  which  legalism  gradually  as- 
sumed stronger  sway  and  threatened  to  check  the 
ethical  idealism  of  the  Prophets.  The  so-called  sec- 
ond Isaiah  voices  distinctly  and  unmistakably  the 
new  spirit  as  applied  to  the  Sabbath  institution. 
In  a  famous  chapter1  which  attempts  with  impres- 
sive nicety  to  hold  the  balance  between  ceremonial 
observance  and  the  true  religious  spirit  manifesting 
itself  in  adherence  to  high  ideals  of  conduct,  he  draws 
a  picture  of  the  ideal  Sabbath — the  Sabbath  de- 
manded by  a  deity  conceived  in  terms  of  the  purest 
ethical  monotheism.2  "If  thou  turn  away  thy  foot 
from  the  Sabbath  (not)  doing  thy  pleasure  on  my 
holy  day;  and  call  the  Sabbath  a  delight,  the  holy 
of  the  Lord,  honored;  and  shalt  honor  it  by  not 
following  thy  wonted  ways,  nor  finding  thy  own 
pleasure,  nor    (merely)   speaking  words,3  then   wilt 

1  Chap.  58.  2  Isa.  58  :  13-14.  3 1,  e.,  mere  lip-service. 


188    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

thou  delight  thyself  in  Yahweh;  and  I  will  cause 
thee  to  ride  upon  the  high  places  of  the  earth  and 
feed  thee  with  the  heritage  of  Jacob,  thy  father." 
Here  we  have  at  last  a  Sabbath  at  once  holy  and  hu- 
mane, a  day  set  aside  for  higher  spiritual  purposes, 
and  marked  by  an  interruption  of  the  ordinary  pur- 
suits of  the  week — a  day  not  of  restrictions  but  of 
recreation,  in  which  man  is  to  "refresh  himself," 
which  should  fill  him  with  delight,  bringing  peace 
to  his  spirit  and  rest  to  his  body.  It  is  this  Sab- 
bath that  becomes  the  central  institution  of  Juda- 
ism, and  in  this  form  it  can  only  be  accounted  for 
as  the  outcome  and  expression  of  the  teachings  of 
the  Prophets,  superimposed  on  the  older  layer  of 
the  "holy"  day  instituted  by  Moses.  We  search  in 
vain  among  the  religions  of  antiquity  for  such  a 
day  of  rest  and  spiritual  recreation.  How  far — how 
infinitely  far  removed  from  the  Babylonian  shabat- 
tum  or  from  the  "lucky"  and  "unlucky"  days  that 
play  so  important  a  role  in  all  the  religions  of  an- 
tiquity. It  rises  superior  to  the  festivals  that  mark 
transition  periods  in  nature  and  which  Judaism  also 
preserved,  and  stands  far  above  the  level  of  the 
rites  and  customs  set  aside  for  transition  epochs  in 
human  life! 

VII 

The  further  development  of  the  Hebrew  Sabbath 
presents  two  phases  on  which,  in  conclusion,  we  must 
briefly  touch.  On  the  one  hand,  while  the  spiritual 
conception  of  a  day  of  rest  was  never  lost  sight  of, 


HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  SABBATH       189 

curiously  enough  the  restrictive  element  connected 
with  the  older  Sabbath,  and  of  which  we  have  found 
some  traces  in  the  Pentateuchal  Codes,1  is  accentu- 
ated as  we  approach  the  period  when  the  religion 
of  the  Prophets  develops  into  the  elaborate  regu- 
lation of  the  minute  details  of  life.     For  want  of  a 
better  name  we  call  this  period  that  of  Rabbinical 
or  Talmudical   Judaism   because   of  the  authority 
acquired  by  the  Talmud,  which  is  a  vast  compila- 
tion of  laws  and  of  discussion  on  laws,  and  which 
represents  the  outcome  of  the  activity  of  the  Jew- 
ish rabbis  in  the  schools  in  Palestine  and  Babylonia, 
organised  for  the  study  of  the  laws  of  Judaism.     It 
is  an  error  to  suppose  that  these  rabbis,  whose  au- 
thority was  derived  solely  from  the  respect  they  en- 
joyed as  versed  in  the  law,  imposed  the  minute  cere- 
monies upon  the  people  which  are  embodied  in  the 
Talmud.     At  first,  no  doubt,  the  strict  observance  of 
the  Sabbath  was  felt  as  a  hardship  by  the  people, 
as  is  evident  from  Nehemiah's  memoirs,2  but  when 
it  had  once  become  established,  the  sense  of  sacri- 
fice gave  way  to  a  zeal  to  be  as  exact  as  possible. 
There  seems  to  be  no  doubt  that  during  the  two 
centuries  following  upon  Nehemiah,  the  tendency 
towards  hedging  themselves  around  with  all  kinds  of 
restrictions   developed   among  the   people,   and   all 
that  the   rabbis   did  during  the  following  centuries 
was  to  codify  and  regulate  in  a  more  precise  form 

1  Above,  p.  168. 

2Neh.  13  :  15-22,  speaks  frankly  of  the  difficulties  he  encountered  in 
securing  an  observance  of  the  Sabbath,  which  appears  indeed  at  that 
time  to  have  been  one  of  the  busy  market  days  of  the  week. 


190    HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

ceremonies  that  in  part  represented  ancient  tradi- 
tion and  in  part  were  regarded  as  logical  conse- 
quences following  upon  certain  premises.  Restrict- 
ive regulations  in  regard  to  the  Sabbath,  based 
upon  incidental  biblical  references  to  the  prohibi- 
tion to  leave  one's  house  or  to  kindle  fire,  led  to  a 
strict  observance  of  the  letter,  which  finally  had  its 
outcome  in  minutiae  that  approached  in  their  ex- 
treme the  point  of  absurdity.  It  was  found,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  impossible  to  carry  out  in  a  literal 
sense  such  a  regulation  as  not  to  leave  one's  house, 
which  would  actually  prohibit  one  from  walking  in 
the  open  air.  By  a  species  of  casuistry  it  was  as- 
sumed that  two  thousand  paces  might  constitute  the 
limit  of  an  average  settlement,  and  one  was  there- 
fore permitted  to  walk  this  distance;  but  in  order  to 
extend  this  limitation  one  might  on  the  day  before 
the  Sabbath  place  something — it  might  be  a  piece 
of  bread — at  the  end  of  two  thousand  paces,  which 
would  make  the  limit  a  fictitious  home,  by  means 
of  which  subterfuge  one  could  walk  a  distance  of 
four  thousand  paces.  Another  way  of  beating  the 
devil  around  the  stump  was  to  connect  the  separate 
dwellings  grouped  around  a  common  court — as  was 
customary  in  the  Orient — by  means  of  ropes  unit- 
ing the  spaces  between  the  houses.  Through  this 
device  they  would  fictitiously  constitute  one  dwell- 
ing. The  prohibition  of  labour  on  the  seventh  day 
was  interpreted  in  the  most  literal  sense,  without 
reference  to  its  original  import  to  interrupt  the  or- 
dinary pursuits  for  livelihood  or  for  gain,  and  ex- 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN   SABBATH       191 

tended  to  carrying  any  burden  whatsoever  on  the 
holy  Sabbath.  Advantage  was  once  more  taken  of 
the  phrase,  "not  to  leave  one's  dwelling,"  to  permit 
of  the  exception  that  within  the  house  things  might 
be  carried,  and  in  order  to  extend  this  concession 
again  so  as  to  enable  you  to  carry  a  chair  from  your 
house  to  your  neighbour's  or  even  to  carry  your 
pocket  handkerchief  (which  would  come  under  the 
category  of  a  "burden")  outside  of  your  house,  the 
fictitious  union  of  the  houses  of  the  court  was  once 
more  resorted  to.  I  have  purposely  introduced 
these  illustrations  to  show  the  extreme  to  which 
the  rabbis  went  in  their  desire  faithfully  to  observe 
the  letter  of  the  prohibition  against  work  on  the 
seventh  day,  because  such  extremes  bring  out  the 
contrast  between  what  the  Sabbath  was  intended 
to  be  in  the  minds  of  the  later  Prophets — a  day  of 
"refreshing  oneself"  and  of  spiritual  recreation — 
and  what  it  necessarily  became  through  the  unfor- 
tunate application  of  legal  principles  and  deductions 
to  what  was  intended  to  be  interpreted  in  a  humane 
and  purely  ethical  spirit.  For  all  this,  although  the 
Sabbath  of  Talmudical  Judaism  (like  its  natural  suc- 
cessor many  centuries  afterwards,  the  Sabbath  of 
English  and  American  Puritanism)  was  inevitably  to 
lead  to  the  worship  of  the  letter,  yet  we  must  be 
careful  not  to  conclude  from  the  elaborate  discus- 
sions in  the  Talmud  as  to  the  precise  manner  in 
which  detailed  observances  had  to  be  carried  out, 
that  the  spiritual  influence  of  the  Sabbath  was  lost 
upon  its  pious  observers.     While  it  must  be  admitted 


192    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

that  the  Sabbath  as  observed  particularly  by  the 
Pharisees  in  the  days  of  Jesus  justified  the  taunt 
involved  in  the  protest  that  "the  Sabbath  was  made 
for  man,  not  man  for  the  Sabbath, "  yet  such  was 
the  devotion  of  the  people  to  what  is  ordinarily 
spoken  of  as  "the  yoke  of  the  law,"  1  and  of  which 
the  strict  Sabbath  observance  is  merely  one  of  many 
illustrations,  that  the  followers  of  Rabbinical  Juda- 
ism took  the  yoke  willingly  and  cheerfully  upon 
themselves;  and  during  the  Middle  Ages,  which  for 
the  Jews  extended  up  to  a  much  later  period  than 
for  the  rest  of  the  civilised  world,  it  was  the  attach- 
ment to  the  law,  even  to  the  letter  of  the  law,  that 
proved  an  element  of  power  and  of  spiritual  strength. 
It  is  sufficient  to  point  to  Heine's  charming  poem2 
on  the  Sabbath  to  prove  that  even  he,  cynically  in- 
clined as  he  was,  and  moving  far  away  from  any 
attachment  to  the  faith  in  which  he  was  reared, 
felt  and  realised  the  religious  power  of  the  Sab- 
bath institution  which  could,  as  by  the  touch  of  a 
magic  wand,  transform  the  cowed  beggar  of  the  week 
to  a  prince  in  dignity  and  majesty.  The  influence 
of  the  Hebrew  Sabbath  upon  the  religious  world 
outside  of  the  pale  of  Judaism  is  too  obvious  to 
require  demonstration.  While  the  "day  of  assem- 
bly," as  the  Friday  of  each  week  is  called  in  Islam- 
ism,  does  not  partake  primarily  of  the  character  of 
a  day  of  rest,  yet  the  institution  was  unquestion- 

1  See  C.  G.  Montefiore's  judicious  remarks  on  this  theme  in  his  Religion 
of  the  Ancient  Hebrews,  pp.  503  seq. 

2  See  Heine's  Sdmmtliche  Werke,  ed.  Elster,  I,  p.  433,  entitled  "Prin- 
zessin  Sabbat." 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN   SABBATH       193 

ably  suggested  by  the  example  of  Judaism  to  Mo- 
hammed, who  aimed  to  make  the  day  one  of  spiri- 
tual recreation  in  the  sense  in  which  the  Hebrew 
Prophets  understood  it.  Christianity,  after  waver- 
ing for  some  time,1  settled  upon  "the  Lord's  Day" 
— the  day  of  the  traditional  resurrection — as  the 
day  of  rest,  but  the  spirit  of  the  day  is  identical 
with  that  of  the  Hebrew  Sabbath,  and  in  the  course 
of  its  development  it  became  subject  to  a  similar 
tendency,  as  already  intimated,  to  exalt  the  letter 
over  the  law.  Even  at  the  present  time  the  same 
struggle  is  going  on  within  the  Christian  and  the 
Jewish  churches  between  the  observance  of  the  spirit 
and  the  adherence  to  the  letter  in  connection  with 
the  time-honoured  institution. 

The  net  result  of  our  survey  of  a  comparison  be- 
tween the  Babylonian  shabattum  and  the  Hebrew 
Sabbath  has  been  to  furnish  another  illustration  of 
the  main  thought  that  I  am  endeavouring  in  this 
investigation  to  bring  out,  to  wit,  how  it  came  about 
that  Babylonians  and  Hebrews,  starting  out  with 
so  much  in  common,  should  have  ended  by  having 
so  little  in  common,  and  this  despite  a  steady  stream 
of  influence  from  the  great  civilisation  unfolded  in 
the  Euphrates  Valley  that  affected  the  Hebrews 
during  the  formative  period  when  they  were  work- 
ing out  their  formulae  of  religious  faith  and  prac- 
tice. The  Babylonian  shabattum,  like  the  Baby- 
lonian Creation  myths,  remained  attached  to  the 

1  The  early  Christians  observed  the  seventh  day  as  an  occasion  of 
solemn  assembly  and  prayer. 


194    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

forces  of  nature  of  which  it  was  a  symbol  and  an 
expression.  The  Hebrew  Sabbath,  cutting  loose 
from  its  original  connection  with  the  phases  of  the 
moon,  became  a  symbol  of  man's  superior  dignity, 
a  reminder,  by  introducing  a  break  in  his  regular 
worldly  occupations,  of  his  double  nature — a  com- 
bination of  the  finite  body  with  an  infusion  of  a 
portion  of  the  spirit  of  the  Infinite  Himself.  Such 
an  institution  has  in  its  developed  form  nothing  but 
the  name  and  the  starting-point  in  common  with  the 
Babylonian  counterpart.  The  Hebrew  Sabbath  by 
sanctifying  a  day  set  apart  from  the  rest  of  the 
week  sanctifies  labour.  It  gives  to  labour  a  dignity 
that  places  it  far  above  the  merely  material  neces- 
sity or  the  desire  for  material  gain,  and  thus  directs 
man  to  the  path  along  which  he  is  to  proceed  to 
reach  his  destined  goal. 

The  historical  view  of  the  Hebrew  Sabbath  which 
I  have  tried  to  set  before  you,  the  spirit  of  which, 
we  have  seen,  was  transferred  to  the  day  that  Chris- 
tianity set  aside  as  a  day  of  rest,  so  far  from  tak- 
ing away  any  of  its  significance  enhances  its  char- 
acter by  enabling  us  to  see  the  gradual  infusion  of 
the  ideals  and  aspirations  of  the  Prophets  into  old 
traditions  and  time-honoured  observances.  To  em- 
phasise this  position  I  cannot  do  better  than  quote 
from  an  admirable  passage  in  one  of  your  distin- 
guished president's  volumes:1 

"So   customs,  forms   of  observance  and  worship 

1  Henry   C.    King    (president   of   Oberlin    College),  Reconstruction  in 
Theology,  p.  159. 


HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  SABBATH       195 

which  Israel  shared  with  other  Semites  are  not  forth- 
with under  revelation  set  aside;  they  are  retained 
but  regulated,  purified,  given  new  motives  and  teach- 
ings and  so  put  on  a  different  religious  basis.  God 
begins  where  the  people  are" — a  happy  phrase,  in- 
deed, to  describe  the  process  that  we  can  follow  in 
the  unfolding  of  Hebrew  traditions  and  of  which 
we  shall  have  another  illustration  in  a  consideration 
of  Hebrew  and  Babylonian  views  of  life  after  death. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  VIEWS  OF  LIFE 
AFTER  DEATH 

I 

In  approaching  the  subject  of  the  views  held  by 
the  Hebrews  and  Babylonians  regarding  life  after 
death,  we  must  take  as  our  point  of  departure  the 
fact  that  the  belief  in  the  continuation  of  conscious- 
ness in  some  form  after  death  comes  naturally  to 
man  at  an  early  stage  of  his  mental  development. 
In  fact,  the  thought  of  a  complete  annihilation  of 
consciousness  seems  to  be  beyond  the  grasp  of  prim- 
itive man,  just  as  it  is  beyond  the  intellectual  reach 
of  a  child  who  cannot  imagine  that  life  should 
ever  come  to  an  absolute  stop.  Death  is,  of  course, 
recognised  by  people  even  in  a  primitive  stage  of 
culture,  but  it  is  viewed  as  something  that  was  in- 
troduced at  some  given  time  either  by  an  accidental 
circumstance,  or  through  the  influence  of  evil  powers 
hostile  to  man.     Among  all  savages  stories  abound1 

1  See  Frazer,  Belief  in  Immortality,  I,  chapters  II  and  III,  in  which  the 
savage  conception  of  death  is  admirably  set  forth  with  a  wealth  of  illus- 
tration of  the  myths  about  death,  of  which  Frazer  recognises  several 
distinct  types.  Frazer  calls  attention  to  the  curious  parallel  between 
savage  conceptions  of  death  and  the  modern  biological  view  which  claims 
that  death  is  not  a  physical  but  an  economic  necessity.  See  below,  p. 
199,  note,  for  another  curious  parallel  between  primitive  and  modern 
points  of  view. 

196 


VIEWS    OF  LIFE  AFTER  DEATH  197 

of  the  way  in  which  death  came  into  the  life  of  man. 
We  have  seen1  that  in  the  biblical  story  of  the  fall 
of  man  the  purpose  to  account  for  death  is  likewise 
involved.  The  point  in  all  these  stories  is  that  life 
as  such  is  not  necessarily  terminated  by  death,  which 
represents  a  stage  of  belief  only  a  few  degrees  re- 
moved from  the  impossibility  of  conceiving  of  a  total 
extinction  of  life.  But  even  death,  as  thus  explained, 
does  not  in  the  mind  of  primitive  man  mean  a  loss 
of  consciousness,  which  in  some  form  or  other  is 
assumed  to  survive  after  life  has  left  the  body. 
The  doubt  on  this  subject  does  not  set  in  until  a 
much  more  advanced  stage  of  thought.  We  have 
only  the  faintest  indications  of  such  a  doubt  in 
Babylonian  literature,  and  as  for  the  Hebrews  a 
sceptical  attitude  towards  the  continuance  of  life 
after  death  does  not  set  in  until  a  very  late  period 
and  possibly  reflects  the  influence  of  Greek  thought. 
We  find  both  Babylonians  and  Hebrews  starting 
out  with  a  general  conception  of  some  subterra- 
nean cave  or  hollow  in  which  all  the  dead  without 
distinction  are  gathered.  The  name  given  to  this 
place  in  Babylonian  is  Aralu,  and  it  corresponds 
in  every  particular  to  the  early  Hebrew  conception 
of  "Sheol."  The  etymology  of  Aralu  escapes  us, 
but  in  all  probability  it  merely  connotes  a  large 
compartment  or  cave.  Not  without  significance  is 
the  fact  that  the  cave  is  located  deep  in  the  earth, 
for  such  a  view  points  distinctly  to  burial  as  the 
first  method  of  disposing  of  the  dead  among  Sem- 

1  Above,  pp.  S3  seq. 


198    HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

ites;  and  in  passing  it  may  be  remarked  that  we 
have  no  reason  for  believing,  though  the  asser- 
tion is  often  made,  that  the  Sumerians,  representing 
the  non-Semitic  stratum  in  Babylonian  civilisation, 
burnt  their  dead. 

The  place  where  the  dead  are  gathered  forms, 
therefore,  the  secondary  consideration,  being  due 
to  the  accident  or  circumstance  of  burial.  The 
primary  idea  is  that  of  a  continuation  of  conscious- 
ness somewhere  and  in  some  form  after  the  spirit  of 
life  has  fled.  People  in  an  early  stage  of  thought 
are  not  given  to  much  speculation  regarding  the  na- 
ture of  this  continued  existence.  They  accept  it, 
as  already  intimated,  because  they  cannot  conceive 
the  contrary.  But  we  find  only  weak  attempts  at 
picturing  life  after  death  in  any  definite  form.  Prim- 
itive logic  leads  to  the  supposition  that  the  dead 
are  weak,  unable  to  do  much  or  indeed  anything 
for  themselves,  and  in  general  they  are  supposed 
to  lie  in  Aralu  in  a  state  of  languishing  inactivity. 
To  be  sure,  there  is  also  another  side  to  the  picture, 
for  primitive  logic  is  marred — as  is  sometimes  ad- 
vanced logic — by  a  certain  degree  of  vagueness  and 
inconsistency.  Life  was  naturally  conceived  as  an 
active  force,  and  the  personification  of  this  vital 
force  leads  to  assigning  to  it  a  material  shape.  A 
force  or  power  without  shape  represents  again  an 
idea  beyond  the  intellectual  grasp  of  primitive  man, 
and  accordingly,  to  give  a  single  example,  the  strug- 
gle of  man  against  disease  was  pictured  as  a  con- 
test with  some  malevolent  spirit  which  had  entered 


VIEWS  OF  LIFE   AFTER   DEATH  199 

the  body  to  battle  with  the  spirit  or  power  of  life. 
A  cure  meant  success  in  driving  or  exorcising  the 
evil  demon  out  of  the  body,1  while  death  was  the 
triumph  of  the  malicious  spirit,  which  had  suc- 
ceeded in  taking  the  place  of  the  spirit  of  life  and 
in  driving  the  latter  out  of  the  body.  In  this  way 
there  arose  the  idea  of  the  disembodied  spirit  which 
was  supposed  for  a  time  at  least  to  be  hovering  near 
the  body,  trying  in  hopeless  fashion  to  return  to 
its  temporary  abiding-place  and  becoming  a  source 
of  danger  to  the  living  because  without  control. 
We  have,  therefore,  in  connection  with  the  dead, 
two  ideas  which  it  is  difficult,  from  the  modern 
point  of  view  to  reconcile  with  one  another:  the 
belief,  on  the  one  hand,  that  while  consciousness 
survives,  the  dead  are  weak  and  inactive,  and,  on 
the  other  hand,  that  the  spirit  of  life  because  dis- 
associated from  the  body  is  moving  about  some- 
where and  constitutes  an  element  of  danger  to  the 
living.  No  doubt  the  natural  terror  aroused  by 
death  is  responsible,  in  part  at  least,  for  this  fear 
of  the  dead.  But  however  we  may  account  for  it, 
in  trying  to  make  clear  to  ourselves  the  views  held 
by  Babylonians  and  Hebrews  at  a  certain  stage  of 

1  Medicinal  remedies  were  at  this  stage  of  belief  ill-smelling  drugs  in- 
tended by  their  odour  to  force  the  demon  to  flee,  much  as  we  use  pungent 
liquids  to  drive  away  mosquitoes.  The  medicaments  were  reinforced 
by  incantation  formulae  which  likewise  were  supposed  to  have  the  power 
of  driving  off  the  demon.  This  earliest  phase  of  medicine,  which  looked 
upon  disease  as  due  to  invisible  spirits,  curiously  enough  suggests  the 
latest  phase  of  medical  research  which  assumes  disease  to  be  due,  in  so 
many  instances,  to  invisible  germs  that  have  planted  themselves  in  the 
body.  Modern  medicine  is,  likewise,  largely  an  endeavour  to  cure  the 
disease  by  driving  out  the  germ.     (See  above,  p.  196,  note.) 


200    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

their  development,  we  must  bear  in  mind  these  two 
aspects,  the  one  leading  to  natural  sympathy  for 
the  helpless  dead  and  to  care  for  them  with  that 
love  which  they  inspire  while  living,  the  other  to 
devices  for  the  purpose  of  protecting  the  living  from 
the  spirits  of  the  dead.  Dreams  in  which  the  dead 
appear  to  come  back  helped  to  maintain  the  belief 
of  an  association  of  the  spirit  of  life  with  the  de- 
ceased. Nor  did  the  fact  that  the  spirit  was  not 
ordinarily  visible  prevent  this  belief  from  retaining 
its  hold  upon  people,  for  it  was  a  characteristic 
trait  of  all  spirits,  whether  malicious  demons  of 
death  or  good  demons  that  protect  the  living  from 
all  manner  of  accidents  and  impending  catastro- 
phes, to  be  under  ordinary  circumstances  invisible, 
or  to  have  the  power  of  making  themselves  invisible. 
Of  ancestor-worship,  or,  what  amounts  to  the  same 
thing,  of  worship  of  the  dead,  we  find  scarcely  any 
traces  in  Babylonian  or  Assyrian  literature,  but  that, 
no  doubt,  is  due  to  the  comparatively  late  date  of 
the  literary  productions  in  which  religious  ideas  are 
introduced.  The  hymns  and  prayers,  and  even  the 
incantations  and  divination  texts  of  Babylonia  and 
Assyria,  reflect  the  stage  of  belief  concomitant  with 
a  fully  developed  pantheon,  and,  moreover,  a  pan- 
theon in  which  the  chief  gods  who  were  originally 
personifications  of  natural  powers  were  identified 
with  heavenly  bodies,  with  the  planets  and  stars, 
that  led,  as  we  have  seen,  to  an  elaborate  astral- 
theological  system.1     A  trace,  however,  of  ancestor- 

1  See  above,  p.  143. 


VIEWS  OF  LIFE  AFTER  DEATH  201 

worship  is  to  be  seen  in  the  deification  of  kings, 
which  we  encounter  at  various  periods  in  Babylo- 
nian and  Assyrian  history,  and  in  the  faint  dividing- 
line  separating  heroes  of  the  past,  like  Gilgamesh, 
the  chief  figure  of  the  Babylonian  epic,  from  the 
gods.  Gilgamesh,  described  as  two-thirds  divine 
and  one-third  human,  is  thus  at  once  a  deified  an- 
cestor and  a  divine  power  associated  more  partic- 
ularly with  the  sun.  At  the  root  of  this  identifi- 
cation of  the  spirit  of  the  departed  person  with 
divine  power  of  a  higher  or  lower  order  lies  the 
idea  that  life  has  various,  aye,  innumerable  mani- 
festations, but  is  in  essence  everywhere  the  same. 
Life  in  man,  life  in  nature,  the  life  in  the  trees,  in 
the  rivers,  and  even  life  in  the  invisible  spirits, 
whether  beneficent  or  malicious,  was  not  differen- 
tiated except  in  its  manifestations.  Life  was  power, 
and  therefore  the  transition  of  the  power  mani- 
festing itself  in  an  individual  to  a  manifestation  of 
an  invisible  character  after  the  individual  had  lost 
his  power  was  looked  upon  as  perfectly  natural. 

Here,  again,  we  must  be  warned  against  seeking 
consistency  in  the  application  of  the  fundamental 
idea  leading  to  deification  of  the  dead.  Analogy 
forms  the  chief  element  in  early  logic,  but  this  an- 
alogy does  not  go  further  than  drawing  distinctions 
between  various  degrees  of  the  various  manifesta- 
tions of  the  power  associated  with  life.  The  growth 
of  a  priestly  organisation  proceeding  hand  in  hand 
with  attempts  at  systematising  the  popular  beliefs 
leads   to   a   differentiation   between   higher   powers, 


202    HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

who  become  the  gods  of  the  organised  pantheon, 
and  the  lower  powers,  who  constitute  the  demons 
■ — beneficent  or  malevolent, — while  the  spirits  of  the 
dead  occupy  a  place  half-way  between  the  powers 
of  a  higher  and  a  lower  order,  with  the  tendency, 
however,  that  as  the  higher  powers  become  limited  to 
the  chief  figures  in  the  pantheon,  the  spirits  of  the 
departed  fall  to  a  lower  level  and  are  chiefly  asso- 
ciated with  the  malevolent  demons  from  which  the 
living  must  seek  protection.  In  the  case  of  the 
Babylonian  and  Assyrian  religion  analogy  results 
also  in  providing  a  special  pantheon  for  the  dead, 
corresponding  to  the  sharp  distinction  naturally 
drawn  between  the  dead  and  the  living.  The  gods 
who  represented  the  personification  of  the  powers 
of  nature  prior  to  the  stage  when  these  powers  were 
identified  with  astral  phenomena  are  of  importance 
to  the  living  because  the  living  stand  in  need  of 
them.  Happiness,  prosperity,  success  in  this  world 
cannot  be  achieved  without  the  assistance  of  the 
gods  from  whom  in  a  very  literal  sense  all  blessings 
were  supposed  to  flow.  Prayers  and  sacrifices  and 
divination  rites,  as  well  as  incantation  formulae,  were 
all  means  of  making  the  gods  favourably  disposed 
towards  human  undertakings,  or  they  served  at 
least  as  aids  towards  ascertaining  their  disposition 
at  any  particular  juncture.  The  dead  in  Aralu  do 
not  praise  the  gods  because  there  is  nothing  that 
the  gods  can  do  for  them.  They  are  not,  indeed, 
beyond  human  needs,  for  the  argument  from  an- 
alogy leads  to  the  belief  that  the  dead  require  food 


VIEWS  OF  LIFE  AFTER   DEATH  203 

and  drink,  but  they  were  beyond  needs  that  could 
be  supplied  by  the  gods,  whose  concern  was  exclu- 
sively with  the  living.  On  the  other  hand,  in  addi- 
tion to  food  and  drink  which  had  to  be  supplied 
to  them  by  the  living,  they  required  protection 
against  the  malicious  demons  who  hovered  in  the 
lower  world  as  they  infested  the  upper  world,  and 
for  this  purpose  the  dead  were  placed  under  the 
supervision  and  control  of  a  special  series  of  gods 
who  were  associated  with  the  great  cavern  that 
lay  in  the  earth.  In  this  respect  the  Babylonian 
religion  did  not  differ  from  what  we  find  among 
the  Greeks,  who  likewise  had  two  classes  of  deities — 
deities  for  the  living,  the  gods  gathered  together 
on  Mount  Olympus,  and  the  gods  housed  in  the 
lower  world,  the  so-called  chthonic  deities.  But 
while  these  chthonic  deities  were  originally  identi- 
fied with  serpents  and  other  animals  that  dwelt  un- 
derground, among  both  Greeks  and  Babylonians 
they  became  the  counterparts  of  the  gods  who  ruled 
the  surface  of  the  earth  and  to  whom  the  living 
stood  in  close  relations. 

By  a  natural  association  of  ideas  the  ruler  of 
Aralu  was  pictured  as  a  goddess.  The  force  of 
analogy  that  led  to  picturing  the  power  of  vegeta- 
tion, the  life-giving  power  of  the  earth,  as  a  great 
mother,  gracious  and  merciful  and  full  of  love  and 
sympathy,  brought  about  as  a  counterpart  a  wicked 
stepmother,  known  as  Ereshkigal  ("Ruler  of  the 
Great  Place"),  who  acted  as  a  prison  keeper  whose 
function  it  was  to  keep  the  dead  safely  in  Aralu  and 


204    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

to  prevent  any  possible  escape  to  the  upper  world. 
In  time  a  somewhat  more  lenient  aspect  was  given 
to  this  grim  goddess,  who  also  saw  to  it  that  the 
dead  were  left  undisturbed  in  their  resting-place; 
but  this  modification  of  an  earlier  conception  did  not 
go  very  far,  and,  on  the  whole,  Ereshkigal  retained 
her  character  as  gloomy,  ill-tempered,  easily  aroused 
to  anger — in  short,  a  stern  guardian  of  the  lower 
world. 

II 

There  is  a  curious  story1  among  the  Babylonian 
myths  of  the  way  in  which  Ereshkigal  was  forced 
to  submit  to  the  rule  of  a  male  consort,  the  god  Ner- 
gal.  It  is  related  that  on  one  occasion  the  gods 
assembled  together  for  a  feast.  Ereshkigal,  though 
invited,  declined  to  come,  and  sent  her  messenger, 
Namtar,  the  demon  or  god  of  pestilence,  to  present 
her  excuses.  Namtar  was  received  with  due  con- 
sideration by  the  gods,  with  the  exception  of  the 
grim  warrior  among  the  gods,  the  god  of  disease  and 
death,  Nergal,  who  refused  to  stand  up  when  Nam- 
tar entered  the  assembly.  The  messenger  reports 
this  insult  to  his  mistress,  whose  fury  is  described 
as  beyond  all  bounds.  Nergal,  however,  undis- 
mayed, makes  his  way  to  the  nether  world  and  de- 
mands admission  to  an  interview  with  Ereshkigal. 
"Let  him  enter,"  says  the  goddess  to  the  gatekeeper, 

1  See  the  English  translation  by  the  writer,  in  his  Religion  of  Babylonia 
and  Assyria,  pp.  584  seq.,  and  a  more  recent  German  translation  by 
Ungnad,  in  Gressmann's  Altorientalische  Texte  und  Bilder,  pp.  69-70. 


VIEWS  OF  LIFE  AFTER   DEATH  205 

Namtar,  "so  that  I  may  kill  him."  Nergal  and 
Ereshkigal  meet  in  a  deadly  encounter,  which  is  de- 
scribed in  most  vivid  terms.  Ereshkigal  shrieks  and 
fumes,  but  Nergal  clutches  her  hair  and  drags  her 
forcibly  from  her  throne,  and  is  about  to  chop  off 
her  head  when  the  goddess  yields  and  appeals  to 
Nergal.  "Be  my  consort,''  she  says  to  him,  "and 
I  will  be  your  wife.  The  control  of  the  lower  world 
I  will  place  in  thy  hands,  and  to  thee  I  will  give  the 
tablet  of  wisdom.  Thou  shalt  be  the  master  and  I 
the  mistress."  It  is  hardly  to  be  expected  that  the 
union  begun  in  such  a  manner  could  have  been  a 
particularly  cheerful  one,  certainly  not  for  the  dead, 
who  were  now  under  the  control  of  two  masters 
vying  with  each  other  in  grimness  and  severity. 

The  purpose  of  the  myth  is  manifestly  to  account 
for  the  existence  of  the  double  tradition,  an  older 
one  which  pictured  the  goddess  as  the  ruler  of  the 
nether  world,  and  a  later  one  which  made  Nergal, 
originally  the  sun-god,  associated  more  particularly 
with  the  sun  of  midsummer  that  brings  suffering 
and  pestilence  in  its  wake,  a  natural  symbol  of  the 
grim  power  that  carried  the  living  to  Aralu. 

The  differentiation  between  good  and  evil  spirits 
led,  in  the  course  of  time,  to  an  association  of  the 
demons  of  disease  and  misfortunes  of  all  kinds  with 
Nergal  and  Ereshkigal.  These  demons,  whose  very 
names  suggest  the  terror  that  they  inspired,  were 
known  by  such  epithets  as  "Burning  Fire,"  "The 
One  Who  Lies  in  Wait,"  "Wasting  Disease,"  "Dis- 
tress," and  the  like.     They  became  the  court  gath- 


206    HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

ered  around  Nergal  and  his  queen,  and  served  more 
particularly  as  keepers  of  the  seven  gates  which  shut 
in  the  gathering-place  of  the  dead,  and  as  messengers 
sent  upon  the  earth  to  do  the  bidding  of  the  divine 
Power.  The  views  thus  developed  by  the  Babylo- 
nians and  transmitted  to  the  Assyrians  regarding 
Aralu  and  the  fate  of  the  dead  became  gloomier 
and  more  depressing  as  time  went  on.  Far  better, 
one  might  suppose,  would  it  be  for  the  dead  to  be 
deprived  of  all  consciousness  rather  than  endure 
the  tortures  of  eternal  inactivity  and  comparative 
neglect  in  a  great  prison  from  which  there  was  no 
possible  escape.  The  sad  condition  of  the  dead  is 
well  portrayed  in  another  Babylonian  myth  well 
known,  no  doubt,  to  many  of  you,  and  which  I 
need  therefore  only  sketch  in  rapid  outline.1 

The  goddess  Ishtar,  the  great  mother-goddess 
who  brings  about  vegetation  on  earth,  the  loving 
mother  of  mankind,  who  provides  for  the  perpe- 
tuity of  the  human  race,  is  represented  as  paying  a 
visit  to  Aralu.  The  poem  begins  by  a  description 
of  "The  Land  of  No  Return,"  as  it  is  called,  to 
which  Ishtar,  here  introduced  as  the  daughter  of  the 
moon-god  Sin,  directs  her  steps.  The  land  is  de- 
scribed as  "a  dwelling  of  darkness,"  known  as  Ir- 
kallu,  a  great  palace  which  one  enters  but  from 
which  one  never  comes  out.  The  way  leading  to  it 
is  a  road  from  which  no  traveller  returns.  The  in- 
habitants of  the  great  dark  palace  sit  in  dense  dark- 

1  Frequently  translated,  e.  g.,  by  the  writer,  in  the  Religion  of  Babylonia 
and  Assyria,  pp.  565-573,  recently  by  Ungnad,  in  Gressmann's  Altorien- 
talische  Texte  und  Bilder,  pp.  65-69. 


VIEWS  OF  LIFE  AFTER   DEATH  207 

ness,  never  seeing  a  glimmer  of  light,  "with  earth 
as  their  nourishment,  and  clay  as  their  food."  They 
are  pictured  as  clothed  with  wings  like  birds.  Ish- 
tar  upon  entering  this  region  seems  to  take  on  some 
of  the  characteristics  of  Ereshkigal,  for  in  threat- 
ening language  she  demands  admission  of  the  gate- 
keeper. "Open  the  gate,  that  I  may  step  in.  If 
thou  openest  not  the  gate  nor  permittest  me  to  step 
in,  I  will  smash  the  door,  break  the  lock,  destroy 
the  threshold,  remove  the  gates  and  carry  the  dead 
back  to  eat  and  to  live,  till  the  dead  are  more  numer- 
ous than  the  living." 

The  gatekeeper  yields,  and  Ishtar  passes  from  one 
gate  to  the  other.  At  each  gate  the  goddess  is 
obliged  to  give  up  some  ornament  or  part  of  her 
raiment — her  tiara,  her  earrings,  her  necklace,  the 
ornaments  upon  her  breast,  the  girdle  around  her 
loins,  the  spangles  around  her  feet,  and,  finally,  the 
cloth  around  her  body,  until,  when  the  seventh  gate 
is  passed,  she  enters  naked  into  the  presence  of 
Ereshkigal.  The  latter  makes  Ishtar  a  prisoner  in 
her  palace,  who  is  thus  forced  to  share  the  fate  of 
the  dead. 

The  story  itself  is  a  simple  nature-myth  such  as 
we  find  among  many  peoples,  symbolising  the  grad- 
ual decay  of  nature  as  the  winter  season  approaches. 
The  months  of  storm  and  rain,  when  desolation 
appears  to  hold  sway,  is  the  time  when  Ishtar  is 
kept  as  a  prisoner  by  her  grim  sister.  Accordingly, 
we  are  told  in  this  poem  itself  that  after  Ishtar  had 
passed  down  to  "The  Land  of  No  Return"  all  fer- 


208    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

tility  ceased — "The  bull  does  not  mount  the  cow, 
the  ass  bends  not  over  the  she-ass,  man  does  not 
bend  over  his  wife."  *  The  gods  put  on  mourning 
robes  and  lament  the  disappearance  of  Ishtar. 
Shamash  weeps  and  appeals  to  the  moon-god  Sin. 
Ea,  the  god  of  humanity,  takes  pity  on  the  state 
of  affairs  and  creates  a  being  whose  name,  Asushu- 
namir,  signifying  "His  Exit  is  Brilliant,"  clearly 
reveals  his  nature.  Asushu-namir  is  sent  to  "The 
Land  of  No  Return"  to  open  the  seven  gates  and 
to  secure  the  release  of  Ishtar.  Ereshkigal  is  rep- 
resented as  full  of  fury  at  the  demand  to  give  up 
her  prisoner,  but  she  is  forced  to  yield.  She  gives 
the  order  to  sprinkle  Ishtar  with  the  water  of  life 
and  to  take  her  away.  Ishtar  passes  through 
the  seven  gates,  at  each  of  which  the  ornament 
which  has  been  taken  from  her  is  returned,  until, 
when  she  steps  into  the  light  and  the  sunshine,  she 
reappears  in  all  her  splendour  and  glory.  The  sea- 
son of  desolation  is  followed  by  the  release  of  the 
earth  from  the  ban  laid  upon  it.  With  the  coming 
of  spring  nature  revives  and  becomes  increasingly 
beautiful,  until,  with  the  approach  of  summer,  she 
recovers  her  full  power.  The  story,  however,  in  its 
application  to  the  human  prisoners  of  Aralu,  em- 
phasises the  sad  conclusion  that  for  them  there  is 
no  return.  The  goddess  may  be  released,  but  the 
dead  are  condemned  to  an  eternal  sojourn  in  the 
land  of  darkness. 

1  A  reference,  perhaps,  to  the  existence  of  a  pairing  season  among 
mankind  as  among  animals,  for  which  Westermarck,  The  History  of 
Human  Marriage,  chapter  II,  finds  other  evidence. 


VIEWS  OF  LIFE  AFTER  DEATH  209 


III 

With  such  views  of  the  great  gathering-place  of 
the  dead,  variously  designated  in  the  religious  lit- 
erature as  a  great  city  or  a  great  palace,  the  thought 
of  death  was  naturally  bound  up  with  sad  reflec- 
tions and  inspired  terror,  a  terror  that  was  com- 
municated even  to  the  great  heroes  of  the  distant 
past,  whom  tradition  had  closely  associated  with 
the  gods  themselves.  I  have  several  times  referred 
to  a  hero,  Gilgamesh,  whose  exploits  are  woven  into 
an  elaborate  tale,  covering  twelve  tablets,  that  has 
been  properly  designated  as  the  national  epic  of  the 
Babylonians.  The  story  is  of  a  composite  character, 
into  which  a  large  number  of  incidents  have  been 
introduced  which  originally  had  nothing  to  do  with 
the  hero,1  who,  so  far  as  we  can  ascertain  from  the 
material  at  our  disposal,  was  a  ruler  and  conqueror 
who  came  from  Elam,  to  the  east  of  the  Euphrates 
Valley,  and  who  established  his  rule  in  Uruk  as  a 
centre.  As  happens  everywhere  with  the  growth  of 
legend,  twining  itself  around  a  real  or  a  fictitious 
character,  the  attributes  and  achievements  of  minor 
heroes  are  attached  to  the  popular  idol.  Gilga- 
mesh is  thus  brought  into  direct  association  with  a 
figure,  Engidu,  who  embodies  probably  a  tradition 
of  the  first  man  and  of  the  early  condition  of  man 
on   earth.2.    He  is   represented   as   seeking  out  the 

1  See  the  analysis  in  the  author's  Religion  of  Babylonia  and  Assyria, 
chapter  XXIII,  or  in  Gressmann-Ungnad,  Das  Gilgameschepos,  pp.  82  seq. 

2  See  an  article  by  the  writer,  "Adam  and  Eve  in  Babylonian  Litera- 
ture," in  the  American  Journal  of  Semitic  Languages,  vol.  XV,  pp.  193-214. 


210    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

hero  of  the  great  Deluge  who  alone  escaped  from 
a  general  destruction  of  mankind,  merely  so  as  to 
offer  an  opportunity  to  introduce  the  story  of  the 
great  catastrophe  which  had  lingered  in  the  minds 
of  men.  Through  this  same  process  of  assimila- 
tion Gilgamesh  also  becomes  the  medium  for  trans- 
mitting the  solutions  of  the  theologians  and  priests 
in  regard  to  the  mysteries  of  the  universe.  The 
Gilgamesh  epic  in  this  way  comes  to  reflect  the 
religious  thought  of  Babylonia  and  Assyria  as  well 
as  the  old  myths  and  the  faint  historical  traditions 
of  the  past.  Through  one  of  the  incidents  in  the 
epic  we  obtain  a  further  view  of  the  conceptions 
associated  with  Aralu,  as  well  as  the  more  advanced 
thought  in  regard  to  life  and  the  position  of  man 
in  nature. 

Engidu,  the  friend  and  companion  of  Gilgamesh, 
perishes  through  the  wiles  of  the  goddess  Ishtar. 
Gilgamesh  does  not  know  whither  his  friend  has 
gone.  The  story  intimates  that  death  is  a  mys- 
tery which  mortal  man  is  hopelessly  trying  to  solve. 
The  hero  himself  is  smitten  with  disease,  and  is 
afraid  that  the  same  fate  which  overtook  Engidu 
will  seize  him.  In  this  episode  the  nature-myth, 
symbolising  the  change  from  the  summer  to  the  win- 
ter season,  is  woven  around  the  character  of  the  hero 
god  to  whom,  as  affiliated  with  the  sun-god,  the 
same  story  of  decline  of  power  can  be  applied  as  to 
the  goddess  Ishtar. 

In  a  pathetic  manner  Gilgamesh  is  represented  as 
wandering  from  place  to  place  in  search  of  some 


VIEWS  OF  LIFE  AFTER   DEATH  211 

means  of  escaping  the  fate  in  store  for  him.  His 
disease  increases  and  his  strength  is  waning.  He 
comes  to  the  maiden  Sabitu,  who  dwells  at  the 
seashore,  and  asks  her  how  he  can  find  immortal 
life.  The  maiden  urges  him  to  give  up  the  search. 
"Why  dost  thou  wander  from  place  to  place?  The 
life  which  thou  seekest  thou  wilt  not  find.  When 
the  gods  created  man  they  fixed  death  for  mankind. 
Life  they  kept  in  their  own  hands." 

Here  is  the  gist  of  the  Babylonian  teachings  in 
regard  to  the  fate  of  the  living.  The  last  word  of 
the  theology  of  the  priests  strikes  the  sad  note  that 
man  must  give  up  the  search  for  immortality.  Life 
is  under  the  control  of  the  gods.  At  their  pleasure 
they  send  the  spirit  of  life  to  man,  and  when  they 
will  it  the  spirit  departs,  never  to  enter  the  body 
again.  The  ethical  lesson  drawn  from  this  belief  is 
embodied  in  the  further  advice  given  by  Sabitu  to 
Gilgamesh  to  enjoy  himself  as  long  as  life  lasts,  to 
eat,  drink,  and  be  merry,  to  live  with  the  wife  of 
his  bosom,  and  to  keep  his  head  anointed  with  oil 
and  his  garments  pure.  We  will  have  occasion  to 
take  up  this  advice  in  the  next  chapter.  Here  I 
wish  to  point  out  the  import  of  the  teaching  that 
death  cannot  be  avoided.  We  are  long  past  the 
primitive  thought  that  death  was  introduced  at  a 
particular  juncture  in  the  career  of  humanity;  it 
is  a  necessity,  a  dire  law  of  nature  decreed  by  the 
gods  themselves.  This  episode  of  Gilgamesh  is  re- 
corded in  the  last  and  twelfth  tablet  of  the  epic,  a 
position  which  indicates  that  it  represents  a  supple- 


212    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

ment  to  the  story  and  belongs  therefore  to  a  later 
period  of  literary  composition.  Herein  its  impor- 
tance lies,  that  we  have  embodied  in  the  most  im- 
portant literary  product  of  Babylonia  and  Assyria, 
as  the  final  summary  of  the  exploits  of  a  great  hero, 
the  thought  that  he,  too,  like  every  other  mortal, 
must  face  death  and  wend  his  way  to  the  eternal 
prison-house.  But  Gilgamesh  desires  at  least  to 
know  the  condition  of  the  dead.  He  feels  that  it 
will  be  a  comfort  to  him  and  enable  him  to  meet 
death  with  resignation  if,  at  least,  he  knows  what 
is  in  store  for  him,  in  what  form  consciousness  after 
the  spirit  of  life  has  fled  will  survive.  He  appeals 
from  one  god  to  another  for  this  information,  but 
the  gods  decline  to  give  the  answer  to  his  quest. 
Finally  he  comes  to  Ea,  the  friend  and  protector 
of  mankind,  who,  taking  pity  on  Gilgamesh,  orders 
Nergal  to  permit  the  spirit  of  Engidu  to  rise  up 
from  a  hole  in  the  ground.1  Engidu  appears,  and 
as  Gilgamesh  recognises  his  friend  he  is  filled  with 
hope. 

"Tell  me,  dear  friend,  tell  me  the  law  of  the  earth 
which  thou  hast  experienced,  tell  me."  But  the  sad 
answer  comes  back:  "I  cannot  tell  thee,  my  friend, 
I  cannot  tell  thee.  If  I  were  to  tell  thee  the  law 
of  the  earth  which  I  have  experienced,  you  would 
sit  down  and  weep  the  whole  day." 

The  moral  lies  on  the  surface.  Man  must  not 
think  too  much  of  death.     He  must  avoid  speculat- 

1  The  scene  forms  a  close  parallel  to  the  rising  up  of  the  spirit  of  Sam- 
uel before  Saul  at  the  behest  of  the  sorceress  of  Endor,  described  in 
I  Sam.  28  :  7-19. 


VIEWS  OF  LIFE  AFTER  DEATH  213 

ing  on  the  fate  in  store  for  him  and  turn  his  thoughts 
to  this  world  rather  than  to  the  next.     Gilgamesh, 
however,  persists  and  implores  his   friend,  even  at 
the  risk  that  certain  knowledge  of  the  fate  in  store 
will  cause  him  to  weep  the  whole  day,  to  be  told 
the  truth.     Accordingly,  Engidu  tells  him  that  those 
who  die  on  the  field  of  battle  and  are  carefully  bur- 
ied   "drink   clear  water."     Such  a  one  is  reunited 
with  his  father  and  mother  and  wife;  but  "he  whose 
corpse  is  thrown  on  the  field,  his  spirit  finds  no  rest 
in  the  earth,  and  he  is  obliged  to  subsist  on  food 
thrown  into  the  street."     The  picture  drawn  at  the 
close  of  the  epic  of  Gilgamesh  is  incomplete— dis- 
appointingly   so.     But   what    may   be   gathered    is 
that    one's    fate   in   Aralu    is    alleviated    somewhat 
in  case  one  has  met  death  in  a  good  cause.     The 
answer  indicates  likewise  the  stress  laid  upon  the 
proper   disposal   of  the   dead,   and  which   included 
providing  them  with  food  and  drink — a  duty  that 
devolved  upon  the  living.     The  Babylonians  them- 
selves must  have  realised  that  this  provision  for  the 
dead    was   soon   neglected   by  the  survivors.     The 
succeeding  generation,  or  at  most  the  second  genera- 
tion, thought  of  offering  food  and  drink  to  those 
who  had  gone  before,  but  what  did  the  present  gen- 
eration know  or  care  for  those  who  had  lain  in  the 
ground  for  centuries?     And  so  the  great  epic  ends 
in  striking  a  note  of  intense  sadness,  if  not  of  de- 
spair. 


214    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 


IV 

It  is  not  surprising,  however,  to  find  that  the 
Babylonians  were  not  satisfied  with  the  rather  hope- 
less outlook  depicted  at  the  close  of  the  Gilgamesh 
epic.  The  problem  of  what  happens  to  man  after 
death  occupied  men's  thought,  despite  the  advice 
given  to  the  hero  not  to  inquire  about  it.  It  is  a 
question  that  will  not  be  suppressed.  And  so  we 
find  in  another  part  of  the  Gilgamesh  epic  the  hero 
in  search  of  a  remote  ancestor,  who  appears  to 
have  secured  immortal  life.  This  ancestor  turns 
out  to  be  no  other  than  Utnapishtim,  the  hero  of 
the  Deluge,  who  escaped  destruction  at  a  time  when 
all  others  around  him  perished.  I  cannot  stop  here1 
to  enter  into  a  detailed  account  of  the  interest- 
ing Babylonian  tale  which  originally  had  nothing 
to  do  with  the  Gilgamesh  epic.  It  represents  an 
ancient  tradition  of  some  particularly  severe  inunda- 
tion that  had  taken  place  in  the  district  of  which 
Shuruppak  was  the  centre.  The  Babylonian  Deluge 
is  merely  the  ordinary  nature-myth  suggested  by 
the  stormy  and  rainy  season,  which  at  the  present 
time  as  in  ancient  days  inundated  a  considerable 
portion  of  the  Euphrates  Valley.  It  was  only 
through  the  perfection  of  an  elaborate  system  of 
canals  and  the  proper  care  of  these  canals  that  an 
annual  deluge  was  prevented  and  the  development 
of  Babylonian  civilisation  made  possible.     Nor  was 

1  See  the  Appendix  for  further  details. 


VIEWS  OF  LIFE  AFTER   DEATH  215 

there  in  the  original  story  any  indication  of  the 
moral  that  the  virtuous  man  is  saved  while  sinners 
perished,  or  that  Utnapishtim  had  been  singled  out 
by  his  exemplary  conduct  for  immortality.  He  was 
saved  because  he  was  wise  enough  to  understand  a 
mysterious  warning  sent  by  Ea,  the  friend  and  bene- 
factor of  mankind. 

Having  understood  the  warning,  Ea  tells  him  to 
build  a  ship,  into  which  he  takes  the  members  of 
his  family,  his  possessions,  his  household,  including 
cattle  and  flocks,  and  is  thus  saved  from  destruc- 
tion.    This  story,  as  a  popular  one,  is  taken  up  by 
the  compilers  of  the  Gilgamesh  epic,  and,  in  order 
to  bring  about  the  connection  with  Gilgamesh  and 
Utnapishtim,  the  former  is  described,  in  his  search 
for  health  and  his  longing  to  escape  death,  as  hear- 
ing   of  the    strange   fate   that   befell   Utnapishtim. 
The  conclusion  that  Utnapishtim  is  immortal  and 
still  living  in  the  days  of  Gilgamesh  appears  to  be 
a  later  folk-lore  addition  to  the  original  story,  su- 
perinduced  no   doubt,   in   part,  by  the  belief  that 
one  who  had   been   so   singularly  favoured   by  the 
gods  must  have  stood  in  a  closer  relation  to  them 
than  other  mortals.     Be  that  as  it  may,  the  point 
of  the  story  which  interests  us  here  is  the  closing 
episode.     Gilgamesh,  after  a  perilous  journey,  comes 
to  Utnapishtim  and   asks  him  to  tell  him  how  he 
came  to  be  placed  among  the  assembly  of  the  gods 
and   secured   immortal   life.     He  listens   in   amaze- 
ment to  the  story  that  Utnapishtim  relates,  which 
is  designated  as  a  hidden  history — a  kind  of  mys- 


216    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

tery.  A  trace  of  an  older  view,  according  to  which 
Utnapishtim  had  suffered  the  fate  of  all  humanity, 
is  to  be  seen  in  a  description  given  of  Utnapishtim 
lying  on  his  back  and  resting.  It  is  clear  from  this 
that  he  does  not  share  the  life  of  the  gods,  but  the 
fate  of  an  ordinary  mortal,  retaining  consciousness 
after  death,  but  condemned  to  a  sad  inactivity. 
The  close  of  the  story  is  therefore  to  be  regarded 
likewise  as  a  subsequent  addition  made  at  a  time 
when  Utnapishtim  became  identified  with  the  gods, 
and  added  with  the  view  of  attaching  to  the  story 
a  doctrine  regarding  the  possibility  of  securing  im- 
mortal life. 

The  waters  had  subsided,  and  Enlil,  the  god  of 
the  upper  atmosphere  and  of  the  storms,  who  was 
more  directly  responsible  for  the  Deluge,  had  be- 
come reconciled  to  the  special  grace  accorded  by 
Ea  to  Utnapishtim.  Ea,  as  the  friend  of  humanity, 
pleads  with  Enlil  not  to  bring  on  another  deluge; 
to  diminish  mankind,  if  need  be,  through  lions, 
through  hunger,  or  through  pestilence.  This  ap- 
peal evidently  represents  again  a  later  addition  to 
the  original  tale,  embodying  reflections  on  the 
dreadful  catastrophe  by  some  one  who  voiced  in 
this  way  the  hope  that  mankind  would  be  spared 
another  such  catastrophe.  The  answer  of  Ea  to 
the  question  of  Enlil,  "Who  has  escaped?  No  one 
was  to  have  remained  alive,"  is  given  very  briefly 
by  Ea  in  these  words:  "I  showed  a  very  wise  man 
a  dream,  through  which  he  learned  the  secret  of 
the  gods."     Ea  is  then  represented  as  stepping  on 


VIEWS  OF  LIFE  AFTER  DEATH  217 

a  ship,  placing  Utnapishtim  and  his  wife  before  him, 
touching  their  foreheads  and  blessing  them.  "Here- 
tofore Utnapishtim  was  an  ordinary  man.  Now 
Utnapishtim  shall  be  a  god  as  we  are.  Utnapish- 
tim shall  dwell  in  the  distance,  at  the  confluence 
of  the  streams.  Then  they  took  me  and  placed  me 
to  a  distance,  at  the  confluence  of  the  streams." 

I  have  no  hesitation  in  suggesting  that  the  refer- 
ence in  this  phrase  to  Utnapishtim's  position  as  an 
ordinary  man,  and  that  henceforth  he  and  his  wife 
were  to  be  like  gods  is  a  later  insertion,  indicated 
as  such  by  the  addition  of  the  wife,  who  is  not  men- 
tioned in  the  succeeding  lines,  where  the  dwelling  of 
Utnapishtim  is  described  as  situated  "at  the  con- 
fluence of  the  streams."     But  the  addition  of  the 
closing  lines  is,  nevertheless,  significant  as  pointing 
to  an  endeavour  to  furnish  a  more  hopeful  outlook 
to  man  in  contemplating  the  fate  in  store  for  him 
after  death.     The  thought  of  these  closing  lines  is 
clearly  intended  to  point  the  way  to  the  possibility 
of  man  rising  after  death  to  a  higher  state.     The 
spirit  of  life  in  man  was  regarded  as  of  the  same 
character  as  the  life  about  him  in  nature;  but,  since 
all  life  was  of  one  kind,  man  shared  this  spirit  also 
with  the  gods  who  were  pictured  as  human  in  their 
motives  and  actions.     The  dominance  and  achieve- 
ments of  man  separate  him  sharply  from  the  rest 
of   creation.     What    more    natural    than    that    the 
thought  should  arise  that  man,  in  whom  there  was 
an  element  which  united  him  to  the  gods,  should 
also  share  the   attribute  of  immortality  with  the 


218    HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

gods,  since  he  possessed  in  common  with  the  latter 
a  power  and  wisdom  not  given  to  the  rest  of  crea- 
tion, and  which  seemed  to  indicate  that  he  was 
specially  picked  out  for  divine  favour? 

It  was  reflections  of  this  character  that  led  to 
the  singling  out  of  exceptional  individuals,  such  as 
rulers  and  heroes,  to  be  placed  on  a  par  with  the 
gods.  The  deification  of  kings  and  heroes  is  unin- 
telligible except  on  the  assumption  that  the  spirit 
of  life  in  man  is  regarded  as  the  same  in  substance 
with  that  which  the  gods  enjoy.  If,  then,  certain 
individuals  were  favoured  through  securing  immor- 
tal life,  where  could  they  be  placed  except  with  the 
gods?  There  was  no  escape  from  the  conclusion 
that  such  individuals  were  admitted  to  the  assem- 
bly of  the  gods.  The  hope  was  thus  at  least  held 
out  to  mankind  that  through  special  favour  some 
may  escape  the  ordinary  fate.  The  reference  to 
the  dwelling  of  Utnapishtim  "in  the  distance  at 
the  confluence  of  the  streams"  is  exceedingly  in- 
teresting. We  may  properly  assume  that  the 
streams  meant  are  the  Euphrates  and  Tigris,  and 
perhaps  other  rivers  known  to  the  Babylonians. 
The  confluence  is  the  great  ocean,  which,  for  the 
Babylonians,  began  with  the  Persian  Gulf.  Is  the 
distant  place,  therefore,  to  which  Gilgamesh  was 
destined,  a  counterpart  of  the  Greek  idea  of  the 
Island  of  the  Blest,  the  first  faint  beginnings  of  a 
Paradise  reserved  for  those  who  had  secured  divine 
favour?  It  is  not  impossible  that  such  is  the  case, 
though  it  may  be  added  that  beyond  this  vague 


VIEWS  OF  LIFE  AFTER  DEATH  219 

indication    no    other    evidence    exists.     The    mere 
vagueness,   however,  of  the  description  is  suggest- 
ive.    The  story  is  intended  to  voice  a  hope,   but 
nothing   more.     The   narrator   feels   that   he   is   in 
the  presence  of  a  mystery.     Utnapishtim  explicitly 
states  that  the  story  which  he  is  about  to  tell  to 
Gilgamesh   is   mysterious,  and   Ea  emphasises  that 
through  a  dream  "a  wise  one  among  men  learned 
the  secret  of  the  gods."     The  distant  place  at  the 
confluence  of  the  streams  is  also  a  mystery— per- 
haps the  greatest  of  all  in  the  mind  of  the  com- 
piler—and for  this  reason  he  desists  from  any  further 
description.     We  are,  however,  I  think,  justified  in 
concluding  from  this  reference  to  some  special  place 
reserved    for    such    favoured    ones   as   Utnapishtim 
that  among  the  Babylonians,  at  least,  the  beginnings 
of  a   revulsion   against  the  primitive    materialistic 
view  of  life  after  death  had  set  in.     Whether  this 
reaction  went  any  further  than  is  implied  in  the 
closing  words  of  the  Deluge  episode  we  cannot  say. 
It  is  not  impossible  that  further  material  may  be 
found  pointing  to  a  development,  at  least  for  some 
distance,  along  the  line  of  a  distinction  in  the  fate 
of  the  dead  according  to  the  pleasure  of  the  gods 
— a   differentiation   carried   somewhat   further  than 
in   the   Gilgamesh   epic,   and  which   may  have  led 
to  the  assumption  of  two  places  where  those  who 
have   completed   their   earthly   careers  were  trans- 
ferred— a  kind  of  Paradise  for  those  who  had  secured 
divine  favour,  by  the  side  of  Aralu  for  the  great 
masses.     There  are  allusions  in  some  of  the  hymns 


220    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

and  penitential  prayers  to  the  power  of  Marduk 
and  other  gods  in  restoring  the  dead  to  life,  and 
though  this  probably  means  nothing  more  than 
bringing  those  on  the  brink  of  the  grave  back  to 
health  and  to  the  enjoyment  of  life,  still  the  epi- 
thet itself  is  significant  as  an  indication  of  the 
power  assigned  to  the  great  gods  who  hold  life  and 
death  in  their  hands. 

It  is,  however,  exceedingly  unlikely  that  the  doc- 
trine of  a  differentiation  in  the  fate  of  man  devel- 
oped up  to  the  point  of  a  general  belief  in  immor- 
tality in  any  real  sense  of  the  term  as  more  than 
mere  consciousness  after  death,  or  even  up  to  a 
deeper  conception  of  immortality  itself.  The  ma- 
terialistic aspect  of  Babylonian  and  Assyrian  civi- 
lisation, taken  as  a  whole,  prevented  the  fuller  de- 
velopment of  an  ethical  and  spiritual  factor  in  the 
growth  of  religious  thought.  Without  this  factor 
the  religion  of  a  people  soon  reaches  its  definite 
limitations.  The  relationship  between  gods  and 
men  becomes  a  give-and-take  arrangement,  limited 
moreover  to  the  experiences  of  this  world.  To  be 
sure,  as  conditions  of  life  become  more  complex  and 
more  refined,  some  ethical  considerations  are  also 
taken  up  into  the  religion.  The  gods  are  repre- 
sented as  being  favourable  to  those  who  are  good, 
but  the  definition  of  good  remains  largely  material- 
istic, inasmuch  as  no  sharp  distinction  is  drawn  be- 
tween a  good  act  from  pure  motives  and  one 
dictated  by  selfish  considerations,  or  between  a  sin 
falling  within  the  category  of  a  moral  transgression 


VIEWS  OF  LIFE  AFTER   DEATH  221 

and  one  which  merely  means  the  disregard  of  some 
religious  rite  demanded  by  the  gods  and  imposed 
upon  the  people  by  priestly  regulations.  This  lim- 
itation in  the  unfolding  of  the  ethical  and  spiri- 
tual factor,  which  we  shall  consider  more  fully  in 
the  next  chapter,  proved  a  barrier  against  the  higher 
development  of  views  regarding  man's  fate  after 
death,  as  it  also  checked  the  rise  of  a  system  of 
ethics  freed  from  materialistic  or  purely  practical 
implications.  It  is  the  introduction  of  this  ethical 
element  in  the  earlier  views  held  by  the  Hebrews  in 
common  with  the  Babylonians  regarding  life  after 
death  that  led  to  the  profound  change  involved  in 
passing  from  the  view  of  Sheol,  as  indicated  in  the 
older  portions  of  the  Old  Testament,  to  the  sharp 
distinction  between  the  fate  of  the  good  and  the 
fate  of  the  wicked,  leading  in  turn  to  a  contrast  be- 
tween heaven  and  hell,  and  culminating  on  the  spiri- 
tual side  in  the  doctrine  of  the  immortality  of  the 
soul  and  of  an  ultimate  resurrection. 


We  need  not  stop  to  furnish  the  proof  that  the 
early  conception  of  Sheol  among  the  Hebrews  dif- 
fered in  no  essential  particular  from  that  which  we 
have  indicated  among  the  Babylonians,  for  it  lies 
on  the  surface  in  almost  all  the  books  of  the  Old 
Testament.  And  let  me  remind  you  once  more 
that  the  Assyrian  and  Babylonian  view  is  practi- 
cally identical  with  that  which  we  know  was  com- 


222    HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

monly  held  in  a  certain  stage  of  culture  by  people 
in  various  parts  of  the  world — practically  every- 
where. There  is  one  gathering-place  for  all — gen- 
erally situated  somewhere  in  the  earth — and  it  is 
merely  in  details  of  a  secondary  character  that  the 
descriptions  of  the  kind  of  life  awaiting  those  who 
have  closed  their  earthly  career  differ.1  There  is 
no  need,  therefore,  for  assuming  that  the  Hebrews 
obtained  their  early  views  from  the  Babylonians,  or 
vice  versa.  The  existence  of  a  term  shu'alu  in  Baby- 
lonian, which  certainly  suggests  the  Hebrew  Sheol, 
and  which  is  one  of  the  designations  for  the  grave, 
is  the  one  point  of  direct  contact,  but  it  should  be 
added,  although  I  believe  in  the  identification  of 
the  two  terms,  that  the  reading  of  the  Babylonian 
signs  is  not  absolutely  certain.  The  point  is  not 
of  any  great  importance,  because,  as  indicated,  there 
is  nothing  particularly  distinctive,  either  in  the  He- 
brew or  Babylonian  early  views,  that  separates  the 
conception  from  what  is  found  elsewhere.  Sheol  is 
the  general  gathering-place  of  the  dead,  precisely 
as  is  Aralu.  It  is  sufficient  to  point  to  the  pa- 
thetic lament  of  Jacob  that  he  will  "go  in  sorrow 
to  Sheol."  2  It  is  not  Sheol  that  he  dreads,  but  the 
frame  of  mind  in  which  he  will  encounter  death. 
The  current  belief,  apparently,  was  that  those  who 
leave  this  world  in  sorrow  retain  that  disposition 
in  the  grave.     The  familiar  biblical  phrase  of  "being 

1  See  the  descriptions  gathered  with  marvellous  skill  and  patience  from 
all  peoples,  primitive  and  advanced,  in  Frazer's  Belief  in  Immortality, 
now  the  standard  work  on  the  subject  (2  vols.,  London,  1913). 

*  Gen.  37:  35. 


VIEWS  OF  LIFE  AFTER  DEATH  223 

gathered  to  one's  fathers"  is  a  synonym  for  death, 
and  refers  merely  to  family  burial.     It  is  not,  as  is 
sometimes  claimed,  inconsistent  with  the  view  of  a 
single    gathering-place  in   a  deep  hole  underneath 
the  earth.     The  general  conception  regarding  Sheol 
is  also  illustrated  in  the  various  poetical  epithets 
given  to  it,  such  as  "the  Pit,"  "Destruction,"  "the 
Land  of  Forgetfulness,"  "the  Place  of  Silence,"  and 
so  forth.     One  of  these  names,   "Refaim,"   marks 
the  dead  as  being  weak.     Sheol  represents  the  con- 
trast to  life  and  everything  connected  with  life.     As 
so  effectively  expressed  in  the  book  of  Job  (10  :  22): 
"It  is  a  land  of  darkness,  of  dense  darkness,  where 
even  light  is  dark."     There  the  dead  lie  huddled 
together,  conscious  but  inactive.     The  striking  pic- 
ture in  the  fourteenth  chapter  of  Isaiah,  of  the  dead 
rulers  of  the  earth  with  their  crowns  on  their  heads, 
greeting    the   mighty  Babylonian  king,  "Art  thou 
also  become  weak  as  we  are?     Art  thou  become  like 
unto  us,  thy  pomp  brought  down  to  the  grave?"  is 
familiar  to  us  all.     There  is  an  interesting  touch  in 
a  passage  in  Ezekiel *  which  implies  that  dishonour 
in  this  life  clings  to  those  in  the  nether  world.     As 
among  the  Babylonians,  we  find  that  proper  burial 
and  affectionate  care  of  the  dead  were  essential  to 
the  condition  of  comparative  quiet.     No  doubt  the 
Hebrews  also,   like  the   Babylonians,  were  at  one 
time  prompted   to  this   care  for  the   dead   by  the 
consideration  that  in  this  way  the  living  would  be 
protected  against  mischief  at  the  hands  of  the  de- 
parted spirits. 

'32:27. 


224    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

It  is  in  the  Psalms  that  we  obtain  the  first  defi- 
nite glimpse  of  a  more  hopeful  view.  To  be  sure,  we 
still  find  in  many  of  the  Psalms  the  view  that  those 
in  Sheol  cannot  praise  God,  that  all  relations  between 
the  dead  and  the  Deity  are  cut  off.1  But  in  other 
productions  which  must  be  placed  at  a  later  period 
we  find  such  remarkable  utterances  as:  "My  flesh 
also  shall  dwell  in  safety,  for  Thou  wilt  not  leave  my 
soul  to  Sheol;  neither  wilt  Thou  suffer  Thy  holy 
one  to  see  corruption"  (Psalm  16  :  9-10);  and, 
"God  will  redeem  my  soul  from  the  power  of 
Sheol,  for  He  shall  receive  me"  (Psalm  49  :  15). 
Vague  as  such  indications  are — they  may  be  multi- 
plied many  times — they  are  sufficiently  definite  to 
justify  the  conclusion  that  the  belief  in  a  differen- 
tiation of  the  fate  of  the  dead  had  taken  a  strong 
hold  on  popular  belief,  to  speak  roughly,  within  a 
century  or  two  before  the  exilic  period. 

The  significance,  however,  of  the  passages  in  the 
Psalms  furnishing  the  hopeful  outlook  is  that  they 
occur  in  connection  with  a  distinction  between  the 
good  and  the  wicked.  So  we  note  that  in  the  first 
passage  quoted,  the  assurance  of  the  psalmist  that 
God  will  not  leave  his  soul  in  Sheol,  is  based  upon 
his  trust  in  God.  "I  will  bless  the  Lord  who  has 
given  me  counsel. "  "I  have  set  the  Lord  always  be- 
fore me.  Because  He  is  at  my  right  hand  I  shall  not 
be  moved."  "The  righteous  shall  inherit  the  land, 
and  dwell  therein  forever."     "Mark  the  perfect  man, 

1  E.  g.,  Psalm  6:5:  "In  death  there  is  no  remembrance  of  thee;  in 
the  grave,  who  shall  give  thee  thanks?"  or  Psalm  88,  which  strikes  this 
same  note,  only  more  forcibly. 


VIEWS  OF  LIFE  AFTER  DEATH  225 

and  behold  the  upright,  for  the  latter  end  of  that  man 
is  peace/'     "The  latter  end  of  the  wicked  shall  be 
cut  off,  but  the  salvation  of  the  righteous  is  of  Yah- 
weh."     It  is  the  righteous  who  need  not  stand  in  fear 
of  death.     Their  souls  will  be  redeemed  from  Sheol. 
The  key-note  therefore  for  the  brighter  outlook  is 
religious,  the  same  note  which  is  struck  so  forcibly 
in  the  utterances  of  the  Prophets,  and  which  becomes 
the  dominant  note  in  the  reconstruction  of  the  relig- 
ious   life   after  the  Exile.     It  has   been    remarked 
that  there  is  too  strong  a  tendency  among  critical 
students  in  the  Old  Testament  to  make  of  the  pe- 
riod  of  the   Exile  the  sharp  dividing-line  between 
earlier  religious  conceptions  and  more  advanced  ones. 
There  is  a  certain  truth  in  this  criticism,  and  it  is, 
I  believe,  decidedly  erroneous  to  assume  that  higher 
views  held  in  reference  to  the  relationship  between 
man    and    the    Deity,   entailing    superior   views    of 
sin  and  atonement  and  of  life  after  death,  belong 
necessarily   to   the   postexilic   period.     There   must 
have  been  a  long  antecedent  development  before  we 
reach  such  a  position  as  is  taken  in  many  of  the 
Psalms.     The  pre-exilic  Prophets  furnish  the  proof 
of  such  a  proposition,  and  we  have  seen  that  we  are 
justified  in  regarding  Moses  as  a  precursor  in  the 
movement  which  culminates  in  ethical  monotheism. 
But  the  critics  are  right,  I  believe,  in  maintaining 
that  the  full  realisation  of  what  the  Prophets  meant 
did  not  come  until  the  great  lesson  of  the  Exile  had 
sunk  deep  into  the  minds  and  hearts  of  the  people. 
The  significance  of  that  lesson  lay  in  the  realisation 


226    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

that  failure  was  a  condition  to  ultimate  success,  that 
national  humiliation  was  essential  in  order  to  bring 
about  spiritual  triumph,  that  Yahweh's  compara- 
tive indifference  to  the  fate  of  His  own  people  was 
the  means  by  which  there  was  impressed  upon  the 
people  the  spiritual  conception  of  divine  govern- 
ment, faintly  outlined  by  Moses  and  then  unmis- 
takably voiced  by  the  Prophets  in  their  endeavour 
to  show  that  Yahweh  was  not  like  other  gods  cir- 
cumscribed in  his  interests,  and  ready  to  overlook 
faulty  conduct  and  low  ideals  if  only  external  hom- 
age were  rendered  to  him  by  those  who  regarded 
themselves  as  his  favourites.  The  trust  of  the 
psalmist  in  divine  justice  and  righteousness  finds 
its  highest  expression  in  such  utterances  as  "I  walk 
through  the  valley  of  deep  darkness,  I  will  fear  no 
evil,"  *  which  could  only  have  been  reached  by  such 
a  profound  national  experience  as  that  which  marks 
the  destruction  of  the  southern  Hebrew  kingdom, 
following  within  about  a  century  and  a  half  upon 
that  of  the  northern  kingdom. 

VI 

It  was  not  so  much  the  political  changes  involved 
in  the  catastrophe,  though  these  were  profound,  as 
the  reflex  of  the  downfall  of  Jerusalem  in  the  spirit 
of  the  people  that  makes  the  Exile  a  sharp  point  of 
division  in  the  religious  attitude  of  the  people  at 
large.     Here,  through   an   illustration   the  force  of 

1  Psalm  23  :  4. 


VIEWS  OF  LIFE  AFTER   DEATH  227 

which  was  tremendous,  the  lesson  of  the  Prophets 
was  impressed  upon  the  people  that  Yahweh  de- 
manded loyalty  to  ethical  ideals,  and  not,  like  other 
gods  of  the  nations,  a  mere  observance  of  ritualistic 
ordinances.  It  is  no  wonder  that  the  people  de- 
clined to  give,  serious  heed  to  the  threats  of  an 
Amos,  an  Isaiah,  or  a  Jeremiah.  Why  should  they 
be  held  up  as  sinners?  In  comparing  themselves  to 
other  nations,  the  Hebrews  of  pre-exilic  days  did 
not  find  that  they  had  sunk  deeper  into  the  mire 
of  materialism,  or  were  more  indifferent  to  the  pre- 
cepts of  religion  than  other  nations.  They  certainly 
were  not  as  cruel  and  rapacious  as  their  enemies, 
the  Assyrian  and  Babylonian  conquerors.  They 
were  not  any  worse,  surely,  than  the  Phoenicians, 
or  the  Moabites,  or  Ammonites.  The  argument  had 
force  and  could  not  be  gainsaid.  Prophet  and  peo- 
ple were  speaking  a  different  language.  Both  used 
the  same  term  Yahweh  as  the  designation  of  the 
God  to  be  worshipped,  but  the  Yahweh  of  the 
Prophets  had  moved  far  away  from  the  conception 
of  a  merely  national  protector.  All  the  Prophets 
were  deeply  stirred  by  the  inadequacy  of  the  pre- 
vailing cult,  survivals  of  primitive  Semitic  customs, 
or  borrowed  largely  from  the  practices  of  the  Ca- 
naanites  as  a  means  of  bringing  about  a  spiritual 
communion  between  the  worshipper  and  his  deity. 
The  thought  that  Yahweh  demanded  clean  hands, 
pure  thoughts,  righteous  conduct,  rather  than  sacri- 
fices and  the  observance  of  new-moons,  Sabbaths, 
and  festivals,  was  a  revolutionary  one. 


228    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

The  impending  catastrophe  of  a  complete  submis- 
sion of  the  people  to  foreign  conquerors  was  fore- 
seen by  the  Prophets,  and  indeed  was  so  evident 
that  no  one  with  clear  vision  could  help  foreseeing 
it.  But  while  the  masses  thought  that  through  still 
more  zealous  devotion  to  the  conventional  cult  Yah- 
weh  might  be  induced  to  ward  off  the  coming  dis- 
aster to  the  state,  the  Prophets  were  preparing  the 
people  to  understand  the  lesson  of  the  unavoidable 
downfall.  It  was  because  of  the  influence  exerted 
by  these  Prophets  that  the  ethical  element  in  the 
conception  of  divine  government  of  the  universe  re- 
acted on  the  entire  religious  thought,  and  to  a  large 
extent  also  on  the  religious  life  of  the  Hebrews  dur- 
ing the  so-called  Exile,  and  more  particularly  in  post- 
exilic  days.  The  entire  past  history  of  the  people 
was  viewed  in  a  different  light  when  the  new  cri- 
terion introduced  by  the  Prophets  was  applied  to 
the  review  of  this  history.  The  simple  conditions 
in  the  patriarchal  times  loomed  up  as  the  ideal  in 
contrast  with  later  periods  marked  by  the  change 
to  city  life  and  by  the  concomitant  extension  of 
commerce,  of  worldly  interests,  of  political  expan- 
sion, and  other  factors  that  accompanied  what  was 
undoubtedly  an  advance  in  culture.  The  tradi- 
tional figures  of  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob  became 
the  types  of  the  true  worshippers  of  Yahweh,  and 
though  some  of  the  tales  told  of  these  ancestors, 
particularly  those  associated  with  Jacob,  retained 
many  incidents  inconsistent  with  the  ideals  of  the 
Prophets,  on  the  whole  the  popular  stories  were  re- 


VIEWS  OF  LIFE  AFTER   DEATH  229 

cast  in  such  a  way  as  to  bring  out  the  main  thought 
that  Yahweh   demanded   a  pure  disposition  rather 
than  an  external  show  of  devotion  through  offerings 
or  through  the  observance  of  sacred  days.    The  older 
laws  are  interspersed  with  ethical  reflections  added 
during  this  period,  and  which  were  intended  to  bring 
out  as  the  main  purpose  of  ceremonial  observance 
the  resolve  of  the  people  to  regulate  their  lives  ac- 
cording to  the  standards  of  righteousness  and  jus- 
tice which  Yahweh  had  imposed  upon  his  chosen 
people.     The  upshot  of  all  this  was  to  extend  the 
differentiation  between  good  and  bad  conduct  be- 
yond the  confines  of  this  life.     Such  was  the  force 
of  the  doctrine  of  the  Prophets  that  righteousness 
alone  exalteth  a  people  and  that  only  those  who  walk 
in  straight  paths  can  obtain  divine  favour,  that  it 
came  to  be  looked  upon  as  inconceivable  that  the 
same  fate  should  be  measured  out  to  good  and  bad 
alike.     On  the  other  hand,  the  reconciliation  of  such 
a  doctrine  with  existing  facts  was  a  difficult  task. 
If  Yahweh  was  the  just  ruler  whose  sway  was  not 
limited  to  one  particular  people,  why  was  it  that 
power  counted  for  so  much  in  this  world— power  of 
arms,  power  of  position,  power  of  wealth? 

The  only  solution  for  this  dilemma  was  the  assump- 
tion of  retribution  for  the  sins  of  nations  at  a  dis- 
tant time  when  righteousness  shall  prevail  through- 
out the  world,  and  for  individuals  in  the  better  fate 
in  store  for  those  who  suffer  because  of  their  at- 
tachment to  ethical  ideals  in  this  world.  The  He- 
brews, sobered  and  humiliated  by  the  loss  of  national 


230    HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

independence,  began  the  work  of  rebuilding  the  na- 
tional life  on  a  religious  and  not  on  a  political  basis. 
Resigned  by  force  of  circumstance  to  being  politi- 
cally dependent  upon  a  foreign  power,  the  Hebrews 
developed  a  religious  commonwealth  which  aimed 
to  avoid  a  conflict  with  the  powers  that  be.  This 
endeavour  was  aided  by  the  wise  and  generous  pol- 
icy, inaugurated  by  Cyrus,  of  allowing  the  people  as 
much  liberty  under  Persian  rule  as  was  consistent 
with  a  recognition  of  the  political  supremacy  of  the 
Persian  government  over  Palestine. 

The  result  was  the  transformation  of  the  Hebrews 
into  a  religious  community,  though  naturally  cen- 
turies elapsed  before  the  national  ambitions  which 
actuated  a  considerable  portion  of  the  people  were 
entirely  moved  into  the  background.  Indeed,  from 
a  certain  point  of  view,  these  national  ambitions 
never  entirely  died  out,  but  the  application  of  the 
new  doctrine  of  retribution  had  the  result  of  re- 
moving the  time  for  the  fulfilment  of  national  am- 
bitions to  a  remote  period  in  the  future,  which  de- 
prived them  of  a  large  part  of  their  political  force. 
Yahweh  would  restore  his  people  even  to  their  po- 
litical strength  in  due  time,  but  this  time  would  not 
come  till  the  kingdom  of  divine  righteousness  was 
formally  established  in  all  parts  of  the  world.  Then, 
but  only  then,  were  Israel's  sufferings  as  a  nation 
to  cease,  and  retribution  to  be  afforded  for  the  hu- 
miliation and  for  the  loss  of  national  power  endured 
by  the  people. 

We  are  less  concerned,  however,  with  this  phase 


VIEWS  OF  LIFE  AFTER   DEATH  231 

of  religious  development  than  with  the  effect  of  the 
new  doctrine  of  retribution  on  the  individual.     The 
older  view  regarding  life  after  death  left  little  place 
for  individual  claims.     According  to  this  view  all 
the  living  were  to  be  gathered  into  one  place,  and, 
even  if  a  distinction  was  to  be  made,  it  was  not 
done  according  to  the  life  led  by  the  individual  on 
earth.     But  with  the  application  of  the  divine  pre- 
cepts of  justice  and  righteousness  to  the  individual 
as  well  as  to  the  people  as  a  whole,  a  new  hope  was 
held  out  for  those  who  suffered  in  this  world  be- 
cause of  their  fidelity  to  higher  standards  of  con- 
duct.    An  analogy  was  drawn  between  the  people 
regarded  as  a  unit  and  the  virtues  of  the  individual. 
The  sufferings  of  the  pious  and  righteous  were  merely 
a  picture  of  what  Israel  itself  was  obliged  to  endure. 
The  Messianic  hope  and  the  retribution  promised 
for  the  individual  in  the   future  world  were  thus 
closely  bound  up  with  each  other,  representing  two 
phases  of  the  same  thought.     The  literature  of  the 
centuries  succeeding  the  exilic  period  down  to  the 
beginning  of  Christianity,  and  even  for  some  dis- 
tance beyond  the  appearance  of  this  new  force,  is 
taken   up  with  these  two  ideas  of  Messianic  hope 
and    of  the    retribution    of  the    individual.     Israel 
would  receive  the  reward  for  its  sufferings  in  the 
distant  future  when  the  rule  of  righteousness  would 
be  established  throughout  the  world,  and  the  pious 
and   God-fearing   individual  who  suffered  poverty, 
humiliation,  and  apparent  failure  in  his  earthly  ca- 
reer would  find  his  compensation,  after  his  earthly 


232    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

career  had  closed,  for  clinging  to  the  law  of  God. 
That  later,  beyond  the  grave,  the  pious  would  find 
the  reward  for  observing  the  law  was  eloquently 
described  in  the  beautiful  nineteenth  Psalm,  which 
voices  the  postexilic  point  of  view: 

"The  law  of  Yahweh  is  perfect,  refreshing  the  soul; 
The  ordinances  of  Yahweh  are  sure,  making  wise  the  simple; 
The  precepts  of  Yahweh  are  right,  rejoicing  the  heart; 
The  command  of  Yahweh  is  pure,  enlightening  the  eyes.,, 

Here  you  have  a  perfect  expression  of  the  concep- 
tion of  divine  precepts  that  illustrates  the  wide  gap 
between  the  popular  view  in  former  days,  which 
identified  the  laws  of  Yahweh  with  ceremonial  reg- 
ulations, and  the  postexilic  ideals,  which  made  the 
law  the  expression  of  a  purely  spiritual  and  ethi- 
cal intent,  with  ceremonial  regulations  merely  as  a 
medium  for  leading  to  the  end  in  view,  which  was 
to  refresh  the  soul,  to  make  the  simple  wise,  to  re- 
joice the  heart,  and  to  enlighten  the  eyes. 


VII 

The  doctrine  of  personal  retribution  does  not  find 
its  complete  expression  until  within  a  century  of  the 
appearance  of  Jesus.  The  book  of  Job,  receiving 
its  definite  shape  about  400  B.  C.,1  may  be  instanced 
as  a  proof  that  we  are  still  some  distance  removed 
from  the  period  when  the  doctrine  of  retribution 

1  This  is  Budde's  view  in  his  commentary  on  Job  (Das  Buck  Hiob,  id 
ed.,  p.  lv),  which  seems  to  me  to  best  satisfy  all  conditions  involved. 


VIEWS  OF  LIFE  AFTER   DEATH  233 

had   acquired   much   force.     Throughout   the   book 
the  assumption  is  that  the  favour  and  displeasure 
of  God  are  limited  to  this  world,  and  that  after  life 
is  over  all  lie  down  to  the  quiet  of  the  grave  with 
none  to  disturb  them,  but  also  with  none  to  care  for 
them.     Forgotten  they  lie  there,  the  good  and  the 
bad,  food  for  worms.     Even  the  three  "friends"  of 
Job,  who  in  the  philosophical  discussions  that  form 
the  purpose  of  the  book1  represent  the  conventional 
point  of  view  in  postexilic  days  that  God  rewards 
the  pious   and   punishes  the  evil-doers,  do  not  ex- 
tend their  horizon  beyond  this  world;    and  though 
it  is  suggested  that  sometimes  the  punishment  falls 
on  the  descendants  of  the  wicked  man  in  case  the 
real  culprit  escapes  it,  even  the  corollary  that  the 
virtuous  man  who  suffers  in  this  world  should  be 
content  in  the  consciousness  that  his  offspring  will 
reap  the  reward  denied  to  him  is  not  brought  for- 
ward, much  less  the  thought  that  the  good  will  be 
rewarded   after  death,  if  not  in  this  world.     The 
scepticism  of  the  author  of  the  philosophical  poem 
— for    the    discussions    are    in    poetic    form — corre- 
spondingly goes  no  further  than  to  question  the  view 
that  had  become  the  current  one  by  the  fifth  cen- 

1  The  story  of  Job,  the  pious  and  patient  sufferer  to  whom  eventually 
all  things  are  restored,  is  merely  the  medium  for  the  introduction  of  Job 
and  his  three  friends  as  the  participants  in  a  discussion  of  the  problem 
of  suffering  and  of  evil.  The  story  is  used  as  a  modern  preacher  might 
use  a  biblical  story-as  the  text  for  a  sermon  suggested  by  the  tale.  The 
book  of  Job  ended  originally  with  chapter  31,  where  the  closing  words 
"Ended  are  the  words  of  Job,"  are  still  found  intact.  Chapters  32-42  :  6 
represent  further  endeavours  on  the  part  of  later  writers  to  discuss  the 
same  theme,  which  is  one  of  permanent  human  interest,  and  aroused  as 
much  attention  then  as  it  commands  at  the  present  time. 


234    HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

tury,  whether  the  laws  of  justice  and  righteousness 
ascribed  by  the  Prophets  to  God  as  His  weapons  to 
carry  out  His  government  of  the  world  were  actually 
in  force.  The  author,  who  is  in  sympathy  with  Job, 
represents  the  latter  as  questioning  the  correctness 
of  the  assumption  that  God  punishes  the  wicked 
only.  Job's  case  is  the  unanswerable  argument  to 
this,  for  the  point  of  Job's  sufferings  is  that  he  en- 
dures all  kinds  of  misfortunes  despite  the  fact  that 
he  is,  as  the  prose  tale  describes  him,  "perfect  and 
upright"  (Job  I  :  i) — strong  terms  that  are  applied 
to  Noah  (Gen.  6:9),  and  no  doubt  with  a  direct 
allusion  to  the  passage  in  the  book  of  Genesis  so  as 
to  suggest  the  comparison  between  Noah  and  Job. 
The  Noah  story  is  told  to  show  that  God  saves  the 
righteous  man  even  when  all  mankind,  represented 
as  corrupt,  is  doomed  to  destruction.  The  point  of 
Job's  speeches  is  to  suggest  that  the  righteous  man 
is  not  always  saved,  but,  on  the  contrary,  is  tortured 
and  punished  as  though  he  had  committed  all  the 
sins  and  transgressions  in  the  catalogue,  whereas  the 
wicked  often  flourish  and  are  saved  while  the  just 
perish.  The  book  of  Job  is  therefore  of  special  in- 
terest in  showing  the  opposition  that  the  doctrine 
of  the  Prophets  encountered  from  those  who  main- 
tained a  distinctly  sceptical  attitude,  prompted,  to 
be  sure,  by  a  profound  study  of  life  as  it  is  and 
not  by  mere  cynicism.  But  for  the  subsequent  ad- 
dition of  the  speeches  of  Elihu  (chapters  32-37)  and 
of  God  Himself,  introduced  in  chapters  38-41,  and 
for  the  toning  down  of  some  of  Job's  speeches  by 


VIEWS  OF  LIFE  AFTER  DEATH  235 

glosses   and    intentional   changes,   the   book  would 
never  have  been  admitted  into  the  Jewish  canon. 

The  problem  of  unjust  suffering  and  of  the  exist- 
ence of  evil    in  a   world    created    by  a  beneficent 
Power  enthroned  in  justice  and  righteousness  is,  in- 
deed, a  difficult  one.     Perhaps  to  seek  an  altogether 
satisfactory  solution  is  a  hopeless  quest,1  but  it  is 
significant  that  while  Job  in  his  speeches  often  ap- 
proaches a  denial  of  divine  justice,  not  even  a  hint 
is  thrown  out  in  the  book  of  Job  in  regard  to  a  pos- 
sible retribution  beyond  the  grave.2    Nor  is  there  a 
suggestion  that  a  distinction  is  to  be  made  between 
the  fate  of  the  good  and  that  of  the  wicked  in  Sheol, 
which,  it  will  be  recalled,  is  described  in  a  manner 
closely  parallel  to  the  account  of  Aralu  as  a  land  of 
no  return,  a  place  of  deep  darkness  (Job  10  :  21-22). 
"He  that  goeth  down  to  Sheol  shall  not  come  up. 
He  shall  return  no  more  to  his  house,  neither  shall 
his    place   know   him   any   more."3     On  the   other 
hand,  in  the  book  of  Ecclesiastes,  the  scepticism 
of  which  is  distinguished  from  that  in  the  book  of 
Job  not  only  in  being  more  pronounced  but  by  its 
cynical  flavour,  we  encounter  by  implication  the  ex- 
istence of  a  belief  that  the  fate  in  store  for  man  is 
different  from  that  of  the  rest  of  the  animal  world. 
For  when  the  preacher  (Eccles.  3  :  20-21),  after  stating 

xThe  solution  proposed  by  Mazdaism  or  Zoroastrianism,  to  use  the 
more  common  term,  that  the  power  of  evil  is  independent  of  Ahura- 
Mazda,  the  creator  who  has  all  attributes  except  that  of  unlimited  power, 
is  virtually  an  abandonment  of  the  problem. 

2  The  famous  passage,  19  :  25-27 — hopelessly  corrupt  through  later 
contamination — cannot  be  used  for  this  view. 

3  Job  7  :  9-10. 


236    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

that  "all  go  unto  one  place;  all  are  of  the  dust  and 
unto  dust  all  return,"1  adds,  "Who  knows  that  the 
spirit  of  men  goes  upward  and  the  spirit  of  beasts 
downward,"  there  is  clearly  implied  a  view  which 
assumes  a  heavenly  home  for  man  as  against  Sheol 
— here  reserved  for  the  brute  creation.  In  view  of 
this  we  are  also  justified  in  assuming  that  when  the 
cynic  says  that  "there  is  one  end  to  the  righteous 
and  the  wicked,  to  the  clean  and  to  the  unclean  .  .  . 
as  is  the  good,  so  is  the  sinner,  he  who  swears  is 
as  he  who  fears  an  oath.  This  is  an  evil  among 
the  things  under  the  sun,  that  there  is  one  fate  to 
all,"  he  is  polemicising  against  a  view  that  differ- 
entiated in  some  way  between  the  fate  of  the  just 
and  that  of  the  wicked. 

Because  of  these  implied  teachings,  the  view  of 
scholars  who  place  Ecclesiastes  after  the  composi- 
tion of  the  book  of  Job  seems  to  be  correct,  and, 
while  we  may  not  be  justified  in  going  far  down 
into  the  second  century  before  our  era  for  the  final 
shape  of  this  remarkable  philosophical  work,  as  Pro- 
fessor Haupt 2  and  others  propose,  it  can  hardly 
be  older  than  the  third  century,3  and  I  am  inclined 
to  agree  with  those  who  see  in  the  peculiar  form  of 
the  preacher's  scepticism — in  its  specific  form  as 
well  as  in  its  mundane  tone — the  influence  of  Greek 
philosophy  which  would  oblige  us  to  come  well  down 
into  the  third  century  as  the  probable  date  of  com- 

1  In  evident  allusion  to  Gen.  3  :  19. 

2  The  Book  of  Ecclesiastes  (Baltimore,  1905),  p.  I. 

3  See  Barton  in  his  Commentary  on  Ecclesiastes,  p.  62;  though  Barton 
denies  Greek  influence,  ib.,  pp.  32  seq. 


VIEWS  OF  LIFE  AFTER  DEATH  237 

position.1     If  we  had  more  literary  remains  of  the 
fourth  and  third  centuries  preceding  Christianity,  we 
would  be  in  a  position  to  follow  the  development 
of  beliefs  regarding  life  after  death  in  detail.    As  it 
is,  we  must  be  content  with  noting  that  the  general 
tendency  of  religious  thought  which  such  produc- 
tions as  the  books  of  Job  and  Ecclesiastes  clearly 
antagonise   did    not   proceed    without   counter-cur- 
rents— on  the  one  hand  in  the  direction  of  a  scepti- 
cism  about  the   practical  workings   of  the  theory 
of  life  as  enunciated  by  the  Prophets,  on  the  other 
hand  a  questioning  of  the  new  doctrine  that  a  dis- 
tinction can  really  be  assumed  between  the  fate  of 
the   good   and    that   of  the   bad   after  the   reaper, 
Death,  has  gathered  men  in  his  embrace.     Even  in 
a  book  so  late  as  the  sayings  of  Ben  Sira,  Sheol  is 
still  the  place  of  all  the  shades.     As  in  the  earlier 
Psalms,  it  is  described  as  a  place  without  delight, 
where  there  is  no  praise  of  God,  and  where  man  is 
plunged  into  eternal  sleep;  and,  while  the  author, 
who  wrote  about  the  year    180   B.    C,  voices  the 
coming  of  the  Messianic  kingdom  when  Israel  will 
receive  her  retribution,  he  does  not  appear  to  hold 
out  any  such  hope  for  the  individual,  and  looks  for 
the  punishment  of  the  evil-doer  in  the  sins  and  mis- 
fortunes that  will  be  heaped  upon  his  descendants. 

1  Many  passages  in  Ecclesiastes  have  been  retouched  in  the  interest 
of  orthodoxy  to  tone  down  their  extreme  sceptical  tone,  and  many  addi- 
tions were  made  furnishing  the  counter-arguments  of  pious  writers.  As 
in  the  case  of  Job,  it  is  because  of  these  additions  which  covered  the 
blunt  scepticism  and  cynicism  with  a  veneer  of  orthodoxy  and  conven- 
tionality that  the  book — though  not  without  a  struggle — was  admitted 
into  the  canon.    See  for  further  details  Barton's  Commentary,  pp.  5  seq. 


238    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 


VIII 

Such  doctrinal  expressions  and  literary  contri- 
butions had  by  this  time  become  much  more  the 
expression  of  individual  views  than  a  few  centuries 
earlier.  Yet,  for  the  very  reason  that  they  show 
this  individualistic  character,  we  should  be  warned 
against  laying  too  much  stress  on  them,  as  though 
they  represented  the  main  currents.  The  late 
Psalms,  in  which  it  is  often  difficult  to  decide  whether 
the  speaker  is  the  individual  or  the  community,1  il- 
lustrate the  close  connection  in  the  minds  of  the 
writers  between  Israel  as  a  community  and  the  in- 
dividual members  of  the  community,  and  it  may  well 
be  that  it  was  the  intention  to  apply  the  descrip- 
tions in  such  Psalms  to  both  the  community  and 
the  individual.  If  therefore  the  belief  arose  in  a 
retribution  in  the  distant  future  for  the  sufferings 
which  Israel  as  a  nation  and  as  a  religious  commu- 
nity had  to  endure,  we  may  feel  certain  that  the 
corollary  was  drawn  applying  the  doctrine  to  the 
individual.  It  required  only  the  further  growth  of 
individualisation  to  bring  about  a  complete  corre- 
spondence between  the  hoped-for  national  retri- 
bution in  a  better  age  and  the  individual  retribu- 
tion in  a  better  state  to  be  looked  for  after  death. 

About  the  same  time  as  the  composition  of  the 
sayings  of  Ben  Sira  we  find  the  oldest  portion  of 

1  See  Coblenz,  Ueber  das  betende  Ich  in  den  Psalmen  (1907),  which  is 
only  one  of  many  monographs  discussing  this  question  in  regard  to  which 
general  agreement  has  not  been  reached. 


VIEWS  OF  LIFE  AFTER  DEATH  239 

the  book  of  Enoch  laying  great  emphasis  on  the 
doctrine  of  individual  retribution;  and  equally  defi- 
nite is  the  book  of  Daniel,  ascribed  by  the  unani- 
mous verdict  of  critics  to  about  the  same  period  as 
Ben  Sira,  in  basing  the  hope  that  the  pious  who 
sleep  in  the  land  of  dust  shall  wake  to  share  in  the 
eternal  life,  while  the  wicked  will  inherit  shame.1 
The  conceptions  in  regard  to  this  time  of  retribu- 
tion remain  vague  for  a  considerable  period,  but 
despite  this  fact  the  feeling  of  confidence  and  of 
trust  in  the  goodness  and  righteousness  of  divine 
government  and  in  the  ultimate  compensation  for 
unmerited  sufferings  in  this  world  grows  apace. 
Nowhere  is  this  trust  more  emphatically  and  more 
beautifully  expressed  than  in  many  of  the  Psalms, 
and  it  is  because  there  does  not  seem  to  be  any 
other  place  for  such  strong  sentiments  of  supreme 
confidence  in  the  power  making  for  righteousness 
that  scholars  have  been  led  to  place  Psalms  voic- 
ing this  trust  in  the  two  centuries  before  this  era. 
Within  this  category  fall  such  Psalms  as  the  fa- 
mous twenty-third: 

"  Yahweh  is  my  shepherd;   I  shall  not  want. 
He  maketh  me  to  lie  down  in  green  pastures: 
He  leadeth  me  beside  the  still  waters.     He  refreshes  my  soul: 
He  leadeth  me  in  the  paths  of  righteousness  for  His  name's  sake. 
Yea,  though  I  walk  through  the  valley  of  deep  darkness,  I  will 
fear  no  evil:  for  Thou  art  with  me;" 

and  the  thirty-seventh,  built  up  about  pithy  sayings 
that  indicate  the  popularity  acquired  by  the  new 
doctrine: 

1  Chapter  12:2. 


240    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

"Fret  not  thyself  because  of  evil  doers,  neither  be  thou  envious 

of  them  that  work  iniquity,1 
For  they  shall  soon  be  cut  down  like  the  grass,  and  wither  as 

the  green  herb. 
Trust  in  Yahweh  and  do  good:   dwell  in  the  land  and  act 

with  fidelity. 
Delight  thyself  also  in  Yahweh,  • 
And  He  shall  give  thee  the  desires  of  thine  heart. 
Commit  thy  way  to  Yahweh,  trust  in  Him;  He  shall  bring  it 

to  pass. 
He  shall  make  thy  righteousness  to  shine  forth  as  the  light, 

and  thy  judgment  as  the  noon-day." 

Such  Psalms,  whether  couched  in  the  first  person  or 
in  the  form  of  an  address,  are  equally  applicable  to 
the  community  or  the  individual.  Again  we  have 
late  Psalms,  like  the  one  hundred  and  forty-fourth, 
in  which  there  is  a  transition  from  the  individual's 
concern  to  that  of  the  community,2  evidently  again 
from  the  point  of  view  that  trust  in  Yahweh  is 
equally  applicable  to  both;  and  though  I  am  in- 
clined to  believe  that  in  the  latest  Psalms,  empha- 
sising absolute  trust  in  divine  righteousness,  the 
tendency  is  more  distinctly  individualistic,  yet  in 
others,  such  as  the  second,  also  of  late  origin: 

"Why  do  the  nations  rage, 
And  the  people  devise  what  is  vain? 
The  kings  of  the  earth  set  themselves, 
And  the  rulers  take  counsel  together 
Against  Yahweh,  and  against  His  anointed," 

1  Parallel  to  Prov.  24  :  19;  cf.  also  vs.  16  with  Prov.  16  :  8,  and  vss. 
23-24  with  Prov.  20  :  24. 

2  Vss.  1-8,  even  if  we  accept  Duhm's  view  (Die  Psalmen,  p.  295)  that 
these  versions  are  an  adaptation  of  Psalm  18 — a  national  hymn — clearly 
refer  to  an  individual's  distress,  though  the  metaphors,  such  as  in  vss.  5-6, 
"Touch  the  mountains  that  they  smoke,  hurl  lightnings  and  scatter 
them,"  etc. — an  allusion  to  the  revelation  on  Mount  Sinai — are  chosen 
from  the  nation's  experiences.  On  the  other  hand,  vss.  9-15  are  as  dis- 
tinctly national  in  their  import. 


VIEWS  OF  LIFE  AFTER   DEATH  241 

clearly  the  nation,  not  the  individual,  is  meant. 
The  combination  of  the  two  classes  of  Psalms,  the 
expression  of  the  individual's  hopes  and  aspirations, 
and  those  of  the  nation,  is  characteristic  of  the 
religious  thought  during  the  two  or  three  centuries 
before  the  advent  of  Christianity.  The  individual 
is  moved  into  the  foreground,  his  claims  are  dis- 
tinctly recognised,  in  contrast  to  the  earlier  view  of 
the  solidarity  of  the  family,  tribe,  or  nation.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  analogy  between  the  life  of  the 
individual,  with  its  hardships,  its  misfortunes,  its 
varying  conditions,  and  that  of  Israel  during  the 
centuries  following  upon  the  Exile,  were  so  close  as 
to  suggest  an  almost  complete  assimilation  of  the 
hope  in  the  Messianic  kingdom  with  the  time  when 
the  individual  would  also  receive  his  reward.  Israel 
as  a  people,  and  the  people  of  Israel  as  individuals, 
represent,  as  it  were,  an  equation.  Israel  as  the 
servant  of  Yahweh,  oppressed  and  despised  of  men 
as  so  powerfully  portrayed  by  a  later  Isaiah,  is  the 
counterpart  of  "the  poor  and  needy"  who  form  the 
burden  of  so  many  Psalms1  and  by  which  des- 
ignation the  pious  members  of  the  postexilic  com- 
munity are  meant,  whose  fidelity  to  the  law  entailed 
severe  hardships  and  many  deprivations.  The  fate 
of  the  individual  was  thus  bound  up  with  that 
of  the  nation.  Both  were  encouraged  to  look  for 
retribution  at  one  and  the  same  period  of  distant 
time,  when  the  law  of  righteousness  would  be  es- 
tablished in  the  world,  Israel  restored  to  her  posi- 

1  Notably  Psalms  34,  70,  74,  86,  and  109. 


242    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

tion,  and  the  individual  rewarded  for  clinging  to  the 
law  that  is  perfect  and  that  refreshes  the  soul. 

This  identification  of  the  individual  with  the  peo- 
ple represents,  naturally,  a  limitation  in  the  unfold- 
ing of  the  ideals  held  up  by  the  Prophets.  The 
emphasis  upon  the  virtues  of  the  people  was  hardly 
consistent  with  the  conception  of  a  God  of  universal 
sway,  not  bound  by  any  geographical  jurisdiction 
or  recognising  any  distinctions  of  blood.  The  con- 
ception of  Israel  as  a  people  was  idealised,  to  be 
sure,  in  some  of  the  more  advanced  exilic  writings. 
Israel  became  a  symbol  of  the  ideal  of  righteous- 
ness, and  yet  in  the  background,  even  in  the  minds 
of  the  best  writers,  the  purely  national  aspirations 
and  political  hopes  were  ever  present. 

In  judging  of  this  combination  of  the  individual 
with  the  people,  we  must  make  allowances  for  the 
temporary  recrudescence  of  political  activity  as  the 
result  of  the  uprising  of  the  so-called  Maccabees, 
which  occurred  about  the  middle  of  the  second  cen- 
tury before  this  era.  For  a  time  it  seemed  as  though 
the  nation  would  once  more  mount  to  a  position  of 
independence.  The  attempt  to  force  upon  the  people 
Greek  customs  and  to  deal  a  fatal  blow  at  the  same 
time  to  the  religion  aroused  the  people  to  desper- 
ate resistance;  and,  while  the  success  was  only  tem- 
porary, it  led  to  a  strengthening  of  the  national  con- 
sciousness that  had  much  to  do  with  the  opposition 
aroused  when  about  a  century,  or  a  century  and  a 
half,  later  the  attempt  was  made  to  bring  about  a 
complete  break  between  national  and  religious  ideals. 


VIEWS  OF  LIFE  AFTER   DEATH  243 

It  is  not  accidental  that  in  the  book  of  Daniel,  which 
reflects  both  the  attempts  to  wean  the  people  from 
adherence  to  the  rites  of  their  religion  and  the  hopes 
awakened  in  the  Maccabean  age,  we  find  the  doctrine 
of  individual  retribution  after  death  closely  united 
to  the  portrayal  of  the  ultimate  salvation  of  the 
people.  "At  that  time  thy  people  shall  be  saved, 
every  one  that  shall  be  found  written  in  the  book. 
And  many  of  them  that  sleep  in  the  dust  of  the 
earth  shall  awake,  these  to  everlasting  life  and  these 
to  everlasting  shame."1  And  yet  there  is  evidence 
to  show  that  even  at  this  time  the  individualistic 
current  was  running  ahead  of  the  stream  of  national 
hopes.  In  Psalms  73  and  49,  both  dealing  with  the 
folly  of  relying  upon  riches  which,  it  is  assumed,  are 
usually  gained  through  iniquity  and  oppression,  the 
hope  is  voiced  that  Yahweh  will  provide  a  better 
fate  for  the  pure  of  heart  and  the  clean  of  hands 
than  for  the  wicked  who  prosper  in  this  world  and 
heap  up  ill-gotten  gains.  In  the  former  Psalm  this 
hope  is  represented  as  a  mystery.  The  singer  is  in 
despair  when  contemplating  the  actual  conditions  in 
this  world  in  which  the  innocent  suffer  at  the  hands 
of  the  wicked  "until  I  penetrated  into  the  holy 
secrets  of  God  and  noted  their  latter  end — thou 
didst  set  them  in  slippery  places,  thou  didst  hurl 
them  down  to  ruin  (vss.  17-18)  ..  .     But  I  am  ever 

1  Dan.  12  :  1-2.  The  book  of  Daniel  is  a  composite  production,  though 
the  theme  is  the  same  throughout— God's  providence  for  His  people  and 
the  ultimate  deliverance  of  the  people  from  their  enemies.  In  chapters  7- 
12,  the  visions  of  Daniel  are  made  the  medium  of  expressing  the  Mes- 
sianic hope— the  restoration  of  Israel  to  its  place  of  superiority  among 
the  nations. 


244  HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

with  thee.  Thou  hast  taken  hold  of  my  right  hand, 
with  thy  counsel  thou  guidest  me  and  afterwards 
wilt  receive  me  in  glory"  (vss.  23-24).  More  def- 
inite is  the  hope  expressed  in  Psalm  49  (vss.  15-16), 
that,  whereas  the  ungodly  "will  sink  like  sheep  to 
Sheol,  with  death  as  their  shepherd.  .  .  .  God  will 
redeem  my  soul  from  Sheol,  for  He  will  take  me  to 
Himself.,,1  There  is  clearly  an  advance  in  the  di- 
rection of  greater  certainty  over  such  a  Psalm  as 
the  thirty-ninth  in  which  the  trust  in  God  2  goes  no 
further  than  the  prayer:  "0!  spare  me  that  I  may 
be  gladdened  before  I  go  hence  and  be  no  more" — 
that  is,  to  pass  on  to  Sheol  at  the  end  of  a  happy 
life,  and  not  to  go  down  in  sorrow  as  Jacob  feared.3 
The  significant  feature  in  Psalms  73  and  49  is  that 
hope  of  retribution  beyond  the  grave  is  held  out 
without  any  association  with  the  Messianic  age  which 
is  to  bring  about  the  restoration  of  the  people — the 
new  life  of  Israel  through  the  resurrection  of  the 
national  hopes. 

IX 

Many  new  aspects  of  the  problem  of  life  after 
death  are  brought  forward  in  the  course  of  the  cen- 
tury or  century  and  a  half  preceding  Christianity. 
The  Messianic  kingdom,  instead  of  being  looked  upon 
as  a  permanent  condition  as  in  earlier  writings,  is 
portrayed    as   of   temporary  duration,   to   be   sup- 

1  An  allusion  to  Gen.  5  :  24,  where  it  is  said  of  Enoch  "that  God  had 
taken  him." 

2  Vs.  7.     "  And  now  what  do  I  hope  for,  O  Lord  ?     My  trust  is  in  thee." 

3  Above,  p.  222. 


VIEWS  OF  LIFE  AFTER   DEATH  245 

plemented  by  a  final  day  of  judgment.  This  is 
the  view  set  forth  with  more  or  less  preciseness  in 
such  works  as  Jubilees,  Wisdom,  the  Assumption  of 
Moses,  and  by  Philo  of  Alexandria — all  dating  from 
about  the  beginning  of  our  era.  The  advance  of 
individualism  brings  in  its  wake  a  sharper  distinc- 
tion between  the  soul  and  the  body;  and,  since  phil- 
osophical speculations  in  regard  to  matter  led  to 
the  pessimistic  view — based  on  the  theological  in- 
terpretation of  the  fall  of  man — that  matter  was 
ineradicably  evil  and  corrupt,  the  doctrine  of  im- 
mortality limited  to  the  soul  arose,  and  received 
support  through  the  influence  of  the  book  of  Wis- 
dom and  the  works  of  Philo;  while,  concomitant  with 
this  doctrine,  the  belief  in  a  final  day  of  judgment  is 
combined  in  such  a  work  as  the  Apocalypse  of  Ba- 
ruch — within  the  first  century  of  our  era — with  ear- 
lier notions,  which  could  not  conceive  of  life  with- 
out a  material  substance  in  which  it  was  clothed. 
As  in  the  primitive  phase  of  belief,  which  imagined 
the  dead  in  Sheol  to  continue  a  conscious  existence 
in  the  frame  of  mind  in  which  they  entered  into  the 
nether  world,  so  on  the  day  of  resurrection  the  dead 
were  supposed  to  rise  with  every  defect  and  deform- 
ity they  possessed  at  the  moment  of  death.1  The 
bodies  of  the  righteous,  according  to  this  writer,  will 
be  transformed  to  conform  to  the  reward  assigned 

1  The  Babylonian  Talmud  (Sanhedrin,  90b)  even  goes  so  far  as  to  de- 
clare that  the  dead  will  arise  in  the  very  clothes  in  which  they  were 
buried;  and  Jerome  echoes  an  even  more  literal  view,  based  on  an  er- 
roneous translation  of  the  famous  passage  in  Job  19  :  26.  (See  Charles, 
Eschatology,  Hebrew,  Jewish  and  Christian,  p.  281.) 


246    HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

to  them  of  a  spiritual  existence  of  unending  glory 
and  happiness.  This  view  represents  in  its  final 
outcome  a  great  advance  over  what  we  find  in  the 
second  Book  of  Maccabees  (chapter  7),  where  retri- 
bution is  not  only  limited  to  the  righteous  among  the 
people  of  Israel,  but  where  Sheol  is  still  an  inter- 
mediate state,  whereas  the  nations  enter  at  once  on 
their  eternal  doom.  The  emphasis  on  the  individ- 
ual's fate,  in  combination  with  the  modification  of 
the  Messianic  hope,  which  led  to  the  assumption  of 
a  Messianic  kingdom  of  temporary  duration,  had  as 
another  significant  outcome  the  rise  of  the  belief  in 
a  personal  Messiah,  who  is  to  usher  in  the  new  era. 
The  book  of  Enoch  may  be  instanced  as  a  proof  of 
the  prominence  that  this  doctrine  had  acquired  at 
the  beginning  of  the  first  century  before  this  era, 
for  he  describes  the  Messiah  in  such  terms  as  "the 
anointed  one"  (or  the  Christ),  "the  chosen  one," 
and  even  "the  son  of  man"  1  familiar  to  us  from  the 
New  Testament.  We  have  in  the  apocalyptic  writ- 
ings of  this  time  the  growing  definiteness  of  the 
universalistic  view  which  included  all  nations — the 
Gentiles  therefore  alongside  of  Israel,  the  elect — 
in  the  visions  of  the  Messiah  and  of  the  Messianic 
kingdom,  in  the  pictures  of  the  lot  of  the  pious  in 
heaven,  and  of  the  wicked  in  a  special  place  of  pun- 
ishment, and  of  the  day  of  resurrection  and  final 

1  Whatever  this  designation  may  originally  have  connoted — on  which 
see  Professor  Nathaniel  Schmidt's  full  discussion  in  The  Prophet  of  Naz- 
areth, chapter  V — there  can  be  no  question  that  it  is  used  in  a  symbolic 
and  not  in  a  literal  sense,  and  therefore  belongs  properly  to  "Messianic" 
terminology. 


VIEWS  OF  LIFE  AFTER   DEATH  247 

judgment.  It  was  not  easy  for  the  Jewish  nation- 
alistic spirit  to  overleap  the  barrier  marked  by  na- 
tional hopes,  for  that  is  what  the  acceptance  of  the 
universalistic  spirit  expressed  in  the  utterances  of 
postexilic  Prophets  like  Malachi1  and  in  chapters 
inserted  in  Isaiah  2  and  in  some  Psalms3  involved. 
If  Yahweh's  temple  is  to  be  "a  house  of  prayer  for 
all  nations,"  4  and  Jerusalem  the  holy  city  to  which 
all  peoples  will  flock,  then  the  only  special  province 
left  to  Israel,  the  elect,  is  to  be  the  leader  of  the 
new  movement,  but  only  at  the  sacrifice  of  all  par- 
ticularism and  nationalistic  aspirations.  The  Mac- 
cabean  uprising  brought  with  it  a  rekindling  of  na- 
tional hopes  and  with  this  a  reassertion  of  Israel's 
special  prerogatives  even  in  the  days  of  the  Messi- 
anic kingdom  which  is  pictured  in  such  writings  as 
Daniel,  Enoch,  the  Psalms  of  Solomon  (c.  70  B.  C), 
and  Baruch  as  the  time  when  the  righteous  among 
the  nations  will  serve  Israel,  while  the  wicked,  by 
whom  are  meant  primarily  the  enemies  of  the 
chosen  people,  will  not  partake  in  the  resurrection, 
but  will  remain  in  Sheol  and  there  be  subjected  to 
tortures  for  their  sins.  Still,  even  in  the  writings  be- 
longing to  the  end  of  the  second  and  to  the  first 
century  before  this  era,  notably  in  portions  of  the 

1  1  :  1 1  :  "  From  the  rising  of  the  sun  unto  its  going  down,  my  name  is 
great  among  the  nations;  and  in  every  place  incense  is  offered  unto  my 
name  and  a  pure  offering." 

2Isa.  19  :  24-25  :  "On  that  day  Israel  shall  be  a  third  with  Egypt 
and  with  Assyria,  a  blessing  in  the  midst  of  the  earth,  which  Yahweh  of 
hosts  has  blessed  saying,  blessed  be  Egypt  my  people,  and  Assyria,  the 
work  of  my  hands,  and  Israel  my  inheritance."  Cf.  also  Isa.  2  :  2-4 
=  Micah  4  :  1-3. 

3  E.  g.,  Psalms  22,  65,  86,  and  87.  4  Isa.  56  :  7. 


248    HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

book  of  Enoch — more  composite  in  character  than 
most  of  the  writings  of  the  period1— there  runs  the 
theme  that  all  the  righteous  among  the  nations  are 
to  have  a  share  in  the  blessings  of  the  future,  includ- 
ing the  assignment  to  heaven  and  participation  in 
the  resurrection;  and  it  is  significant  that  this  point 
of  view  finds  an  expression  even  in  the  Talmud,2 
despite  the  particularistic  position  which  forms  the 
very  foundation-stone  on  which  the  structure  of 
Rabbinical  Judaism  is  erected.  The  upshot  is  a 
somewhat  inconsistent  and  vague  compromise,  in- 
volving the  theoretical  acceptance  of  the  universal- 
istic  spirit  as  a  corollary  of  Prophetical  Judaism, 
with  an  endeavour  to  retain  the  special  position  to 
be  accorded  to  the  Jewish  people  even  in  the  Mes- 
sianic age  and  on  the  day  of  final  judgment.  It 
is  this  conflict  between  nationalism  and  universal- 
ism  that  results  finally  in  the  divorce  between  Ju- 
daism and  Christianity. 

The  complete  break  with  the  old  conception  of 
Sheol  as  a  general  gathering-place,  and  even  as  an 
intermediate  sojourn  for  the  righteous,  which  finds 
its  literary  expression  in  the  book  of  Jubilees,  in 
Philo,  in  the  Apocalypse  of  Baruch,  in  Josephus, 
and  more  particularly,  of  course,  in  the  Gospels  and 
other  writings  of  the  New  Testament,  leads  to  the 
view  of  Sheol  as  the  abiding-place  of  the  wicked 
in  contrast  to  the  blessed  immortality  in  heaven  ac- 

1  See  the  introduction  in  Charles's  The  Book  of  Enoch,  pp.  xlvi-lvi 
(Oxford,  1912).  }> 

2  "  The  righteous  of  all  nations  will  have  a  share  in  the  world  to  come 
(Tosefta,  Sanhedrin,  xiii). 


VIEWS  OF  LIFE  AFTER  DEATH  249 

corded  to  the  righteous  immediately  after  death.  A 
direct  consequence  of  this  distinction  between  heaven 
and  hell,  when  once  it  assumed  definite  form,  was  to 
lead  to  pictures  of  torments  for  the  wicked  in  Sheol, 
which  form  the  basis  for  the  lurid  pictures  in  the 
theological  treatises  of  mediaeval  Christianity. 

X 

The  further  development  of  views  regarding  life 
after  death  which  lies  beyond  the  scope  of  these  chap- 
ters, proceeded  in  part  under  Jewish  and  in  part 
under  Christian  influences.  Thus  the  differentia- 
tion between  the  resurrection  of  the  body  and  the 
immortality  of  the  soul  may  be  looked  upon  as  a 
result  in  which  both  Jewish  and  Christian  concep- 
tions had  about  an  equal  share;  but  practically  we 
have  in  the  movements  of  thought  regarding  life 
after  death  during  the  two  centuries  preceding  this 
era  all  the  elements  for  the  Pauline  theology,  which 
became  the  working  hypothesis  of  Christianity  down 
to  the  days  of  the  Reformation — all  the  elements 
with  the  exception  of  the  coping-stone  of  the  struc- 
ture, to  wit,  the  wiping  out  of  the  original  sin  of 
mankind  through  the  blood  of  the  "anointed,"  the 
Christ.  This  carries  with  it  as  a  logical  corollary 
the  doctrine  of  salvation  for  mankind  through  the 
acceptance  of  Jesus  as  the  Messiah,  and  the  sym- 
bolical union  with  the  son  of  God  whose  death 
becomes  the  vicarious  sacrifice  par  excellence.  The 
personality  of  Jesus  in  this  system  which  represents 


250    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

the  culmination  of  a  long  process  of  thought  and 
speculation  extending  from  the  days  of  the  pre- 
exilic  Prophets  impresses  us  sometimes  as  almost 
secondary,  in  comparison  with  the  stress  laid  by 
Paul  on  the  theories  entwined  around  the  name  of 
the  Christ.  To  be  sure,  the  personality  in  all  great 
religious  as  well  as  in  political  movements  is  essen- 
tial, but  it  is  not  surprising  that  in  our  own  days 
of  rigid  questioning  of  all  traditions  the  question 
as  to  the  historicity  of  Jesus  should  have  arisen. 
The  question  lies  outside  of  my  field,  but  I  trust 
that  I  may  be  permitted  to  express  my  own  convic- 
tion that  in  the  picture  of  the  great  teacher  of  Gali- 
lee drawn  for  us  in  the  Gospels  we  have  not  only  a 
real  personality,  but  one  who  impressed  himself  so 
deeply  on  his  surroundings — so  much  more  so  than 
his  precursor,  John  the  Baptist,  with  whom  Jesus 
has  much  in  common — that  when  the  time  came  for 
summing  up  the  religious  movements  that  had  so 
profoundly  stirred  the  minds  of  men  in  Palestine 
and  beyond  the  boundaries  of  this  little  land,  Jesus 
became  for  Paul  at  one  and  the  same  time  the  ex- 
ponent, the  embodiment,  the  medium,  and  the  illus- 
tration of  the  system  so  logically  and  impressively 
worked  out  by  him.  The  teachings  of  Jesus  as  re- 
vealed in  the  Gospels  are  conceived  in  the  spirit  of 
the  Hebrew  Prophets.  The  bent  of  his  mind,  so 
far  as  we  can  detect  it,  is  ethical  rather  than  theo- 
logical, though  to  be  sure  theological  concepts  are 
involved  in  his  ethics.  The  Jesus  of  the  Pauline 
system   is  primarily  a  theological  concept  attached 


VIEWS  OF  LIFE  AFTER   DEATH  251 

to  the  personality  under  the  mysterious  law  of  his- 
tory that  brings  about  the  inseparable  bond  between 
great  events  and  great  leaders  concerned  in  the 
events.  But  while  paying  our  homage  to  the  Paul- 
ine system,  we  must  not  close  our  eyes  to  the  fact 
that  corresponding  to  the  national  limitations  of 
Rabbinical  Judaism  remaining  theoretically  a  uni- 
versal religion,  yet  practically  confined  to  a  single 
group,  we  have  in  the  case  of  organised  Christianity 
a  growing  differentiation  between  those  who  may 
obtain  salvation  by  the  acceptance  of  Jesus  as  the 
Messiah  and  Redeemer  of  mankind,  and  those  who 
persisted  in  remaining  outside  of  the  circle;  and  it 
is  just  here  that  we  touch  once  more  upon  the  more 
immediate  problem  of  life  after  death  with  which  we 
are  concerned.  Despite  the  spiritual  conception  of 
divine  government  in  both  Judaism  and  Christian- 
ity; despite  the  emphasis  laid  in  both  upon  the  jus- 
tice, mercy,  and  love  of  the  Creator  and  Guide  of 
humanity,  Judaism  draws  a  sharp  line  of  demarca- 
tion between  Jew  and  non-Jew,  while  in  Christianity 
the  doctrine  of  salvation,  limited  to  those  who  ac- 
cept the  Pauline  system,  led  to  an  emphasis  upon 
the  distinction  between  heaven  and  hell,  the  former 
being  reserved  to  the  believers  while  unspeakable 
tortures  of  eternal  damnation  were  in  store  for  the 
unbelievers.  This  emphasis  grew  until  in  modern 
days  a  reaction  set  in  against  this  deduction  from 
the  Pauline  system. 

We  have  thus  followed  in  outline  the  remarkable 
course  of  development  to  which  the  early  Hebrew 


252    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

traditions  of  views  of  life  after  death  were  subjected 
from  the  days  of  Moses  to  the  times  of  Jesus.  The 
point  of  importance  for  us  is  the  evidence  for  a 
long  process  of  spiritual  growth  as  an  outcome  of 
the  new  spirit  infused  into  old  Semitic  beliefs  which 
may,  indeed,  be  traced  back  to  the  period  of  Moses, 
but  which  found  a  more  complete  expression  in  the 
teachings  of  the  pre-exilic  and  postexilic  Prophets. 
Of  such  a  development  we  find  no  trace  whatsoever 
in  the  case  of  Babylonian  and  Assyrian  traditions. 
So  far  as  the  views  of  life  after  death  are  concerned, 
these  remained  practically  and  essentially  the  same 
throughout  all  periods — marked  by  materialistic  con- 
ceptions that  were  in  keeping  with  the  limitations 
in  the  unfolding  of  the  beliefs  in  the  government 
of  the  universe  through  beings  that  remained  on 
the  level  of  personifications  of  the  forces  of  nature. 
Among  the  Hebrews  the  introduction  of  the  ethical 
element  leads  to  the  doctrine  of  individual  retribu- 
tion which  steadily  gathers  strength  through  the  ex- 
periences of  the  Hebrew  nation  and  is  further  rein- 
forced through  the  speculations  of  leaders  imbued 
with  the  ethical  monotheism  of  the  Prophets.  It 
reaches  its  culmination  in  Jewish  and  Christian  teach- 
ings of  rewards  and  punishments  in  a  future  existence, 
accompanied  by  such  concomitant  beliefs  as  the  dis- 
tinction between  Paradise  and  hell,  the  resurrection 
of  the  body,  the  final  day  of  judgment,  and,  as  the 
flower  of  spiritual  faith,  the  impressive  doctrine  of 
the  immortality  of  the  soul  as  the  imperishable  di- 
vine element  in  man. 


VIEWS  OF  LIFE  AFTER  DEATH  253 

The  gradual  separation  between  Hebrew  and 
Babylonian  traditions  is  no  less  marked  in  the  do- 
main of  ethics  to  which,  in  the  concluding  chapter, 
we  now  turn. 


CHAPTER  V 
HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  ETHICS 

I 

It  is  not  easy  to  fix  upon  a  test  by  which  to 
measure  the  ethics  prevailing  among  a  people,  even 
when  we  are  able  to  study  and  observe  the  life  and 
customs  of  the  people  at  first  hand.  To  judge  by 
the  lowest  level  is  manifestly  unfair;  to  judge  by 
the  highest  endangers  the  correctness  of  our  conclu- 
sions, and  in  striking  an  average,  accidental  factors, 
not  to  speak  of  the  subjective  element,  may  exer- 
cise an  undue  influence  in  determining  what  this 
average  is.  The  difficulties  are  increased  when  we 
come  to  measure  the  value  of  an  ancient  civilisation, 
known  to  us  only  from  written  sources,  and  which 
we  must  endeavour  to  reconstruct  from  material 
only  partially  preserved  and  in  regard  to  which  we 
can  never  be  absolutely  certain  that  the  conclusions 
drawn  may  not  be  upset,  or  at  all  events  interfered 
with,  by  future  discoveries. 

In  the  case  of  Babylonia  and  Assyria  we  are  con- 
fronted with  the  additional  difficulty  that  for  cer- 
tain large  periods  our  material  is  as  yet  very  defi- 
cient, and  that  we  are  in  doubt  in  regard  to  the 
date  of  most  of  the  religious  literature,  which  nat- 

254 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  ETHICS         255 

urally  is  of  vital  import  in  a  study  of  Babylonian 
and  Assyrian  ethics.  We  are  still  far  removed  from 
the  time  when  it  will  be  possible  to  trace  the  devel- 
opment of  religious  thought  and  of  the  relationship 
of  the  religion  to  the  life  of  the  people  in  detail. 
For  the  present  we  must  content  ourselves  with  gen- 
eral outlines,  which,  however,  for  our  purpose  is 
quite  sufficient. 

My  aim  has  been,  as  will  have  become  evident 
by  this  time,  to  indicate  not  merely  the  points  of 
divergence  between  the  two  civilisations  that  started 
out  with  much  in  common,  but  more  particularly  to 
indicate  why,  with  important  traditions  and  beliefs 
so  close  to  one  another  as  to  be  practically  identical, 
we  find  the  Hebrews  proceeding  along  a  line  of  de- 
velopment which  gradually  transformed  these  tradi- 
tions and  beliefs  into  a  medium  for  expressing  the 
highest  spiritual  aspirations  of  the  human  race  and 
led  to  one  of  the  most  impressive  endeavours  to 
find  a  solution  for  the  mysteries  by  which  we  are 
surrounded — above  all  for  that  profoundest  of  mys- 
teries, the  relation  of  the  individual  to  a  universe 
assumed  to  be  under  divine  government.  I  say,  one 
of  the  most  impressive  attempts  because  we  must 
never  forget  that  in  a  district  lying  far  beyond  the 
possible  scope  of  influences  emanating  from  either 
Babylonia,  Egypt,  or  Palestine,  we  find  in  the  re- 
ligious history  of  India  another  and  totally  different 
endeavour  to  penetrate  into  the  secrets  of  the  uni- 
verse with  an  earnestness  that  challenges  our  ad- 
miration, all  the  more  because  its  outlook  on  life 


256    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

is  dark  and  not  hopeful,  and  because  it  appears  to 
enthrone  at  the  head  of  the  universe  blind  chance. 
The  question  underlying  the  investigation  which  I 
have  attempted  in  these  chapters  is  why  it  hap- 
pened, and  how  it  happened,  that  the  form  taken 
on  among  the  Hebrews  of  the  account  of  the  Crea- 
tion of  the  world,  of  days  set  apart  from  others,  of 
views  of  life  after  death,  and  of  various  other  forms 
of  traditions  or  expressions  of  beliefs  have  exercised 
so  profound  and  wide  an  influence  on  the  religious 
history  of  mankind,  whereas  the  corresponding  be- 
liefs and  traditions  among  Babylonians  only  pro- 
ceeded up  to  a  certain  point  and  then  disappeared 
in  the  political  downfall  of  Babylonia  and  Assyria. 

II 

A  study  of  the  general  character  of  Babylonian 
and  Assyrian  ethics  will  help  us  further  to  an  under- 
standing of  the  general  purport  of  our  investigation. 
A  test  which,  it  will  be  admitted,  is  a  fair  one  in 
judging  of  the  general  ethical  status  of  a  people, 
albeit  not  the  only  test,  is  the  relationship  in  which 
a  people  regards  itself  as  standing  to  the  powers 
upon  which  it  feels  itself  dependent.  Now,  whether 
we  turn  to  the  first  period  of  Babylonian  history 
or  to  the  last  period  of  the  Assyrian  and  neo-Baby- 
lonian  epochs,  we  find  this  relationship  to  the  gods 
never  rising  above  a  materialistic  level.  It  is  true 
that  with  advancing  civilisation  the  ethical  stand- 
ards conditioning  social  life  lead  to  a  modification 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  ETHICS         257 

of  the  element  of  power  which  is  the  main  char- 
acteristic of  the  gods,  whether  they  be  personifica- 
tions of  the  powers  of  nature  or  whether  the  activ- 
ity of  the  gods,  disassociated  from  merely  terrestrial 
phenomena,  is  transferred  to  the  heavens. 

As  laws  developed  for  the  regulation  of  the  rela- 
tions between  man  and  his  fellows,  with  the  funda- 
mental aim  of  dealing  out  justice  within  the  limita- 
tions imposed  by  class  distinctions  which  were  never 
set  aside,  the  gods  also  are  conceived  as  actuated 
by  a  desire  to  wield  their  power  in  a  just  manner. 
Perhaps  the  highest  expression  assumed  by  this  tend- 
ency to  temper  mere  strength  with  ethical  consid- 
erations is  the  view  taken  as  early  at  least  as  2000 
B.  C,  and  probably  considerably  before  this  time, 
of  Shamash,  the  sun-god  of  Sippar,  who,  absorbing 
the  cult  of  numerous  local  deities,  conceived  as  per- 
sonifications of  the  light  and  heat  of  the  sun,  be- 
comes the  sun-god  par  excellence.  The  beneficial 
power  of  the  sun  as  the  indispensable  source  of  vege- 
tation and  fertility  forms  the  natural  starting-point 
for  attaching  to  Shamash  attributes  of  love  and  of 
gracious  consideration  for  the  needs  of  mankind. 
The  sun  is  the  power  which  dissipates  darkness 
and  sends  its  rays  into  the  remotest  corners;  the 
sun  rising  above  the  horizon  and  spreading  light  and 
warmth  becomes  the  picture  for  bringing  joy  into 
the  hearts  of  men  and  for  removing  sorrow  and 
grief,  associated  by  a  perfectly  obvious  logic,  with 
crime  and  darkness.  Shamash  thus  becomes  the 
guide  of  mankind,  illuminating,  as  it  were,  the  path 


258    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

of  life  along  which  man  is  to  proceed.  Let  us  take 
as  an  example  a  passage  from  one  of  the  hymns1 
addressed  to  Shamash  in  which  this  thought  is  beau- 
tifully and  poetically  expressed: 

"Oh,  Lord  illuminator  of  the  darkness,  who  opens  the  face  of 

heaven, 
Merciful  God,  who  lifts  up  the  lowly,  and  protects  the  weak, 
For  thy  light  even  the  great  gods  wait, 
All  the  Anunnaki  watch  for  thy  face. 
Thou  guidest  all  men  as  one  group, 
Full  of  hope,  they  look  with  raised  heads  for  the  light  of  the 

sun. 
When  thou  appearest  they  rejoice  and  leap  for  joy. 
Thou  art  the  lamp  for  the  remotest  ends  of  the  heaven, 
Thou  art  the  light  for  the  wide  earth. 
All  nations  look  up  to  thee  with  joy." 

It  is  an  interesting  touch,  indicative  of  the  pro- 
found emotions  aroused  by  the  appearance  of  the 
glorious  orb,  that  the  gods  join  mankind  in  waiting 
for  the  moment  when  the  first  rays  of  the  morning 
sun  appear  to  dissipate  the  darkness  that  had  reigned 
only  a  short  time  before.  The  hymn  was  evidently 
composed  as  a  greeting  to  the  rising  sun.  But  there 
is  a  fervour  in  this  greeting  which  raises  it  above 
the  plane  of  a  mere  adoration  of  the  power  of  nature. 
The  poet's  song  becomes  a  symbol  of  the  joy  and 
hope  in  a  guide  directing  man  along  the  right  path. 
The  light  of  the  sun  is  associated  with  purity,  with 
justice,  and  with  life.  The  great  orb  is  invoked  to 
remove   impending   catastrophe,    to    scatter   wrong 

1  See  Jastrow,  Religion  Babyloniens  und  Jssyriens,  I,  pp.  426-436,  for 
many  specimens  of  hymns  and  prayers  to  Shamash. 


HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  ETHICS        259 

and  iniquity,  to  protect  the  weak  against  the  strong, 
the  just  against  the  evil-doer.  The  power  of  the 
sun  leads  to  a  reign  of  justice  and  happiness. 

"Thou  guidest  the  lot  of  mankind, 
Eternally  just  in  heaven  art  thou. 
The  just  ruler  of  the  lands  art  thou. 

Thou  knowest  what  is  right,  thou  knowest  what  is  wrong. 
Shamash  anoints  the  head  of  the  just. 
Shamash  binds  the  bad  as  with  a  leather  strap. 
Oh,  Shamash,  the  power  of  Anu  and  of  Enlil  is  thine, 
Oh,  Shamash,  supreme  judge  of  heaven  and  earth  art  thou." 

It  is  this  phase  of  the  sun-god  that  is  emphasised 
over  and  over  again  in  the  hymns  and  incantations, 
and  that  is  revealed  in  incidental  references  in  the 
historical  inscriptions.  The  thought  rises  to  an 
even  higher  expression  in  one  of  the  finest  of  the 
hymns  preserved  to  us,1  and  from  which  I  should 
like  to  quote  at  least  one  passage. 

"Him  whose  thought  is  directed  to  iniquity  thou  destroyest; 

Him  also  who  unjustly  endeavors  to  alter  boundaries. 

The  unjust  judge  thou  restrainest  through  imprisonment. 

The  one  who  accepts  bribes,  who  does  not  guide  justly,  on  him 
thou  imposest  sin. 

But  he  who  does  not  accept  bribes,  whose  concern  is  for  the 
oppressed, 

Is  pleasing  to  Shamash,  his  life  will  be  prolonged. 

The  judge  who  renders  just  decisions, 

Will  end  in  a  palace,  the  habitation  of  princes  will  be  his  dwell- 
ing place."  2 

1  The  complete  text,  so  far  as  preserved,  in  Jastrow,  Religion  Babyloniens 
und  Assyriens,  I,  pp.  433-6,  and  Zimmern  in  Der  Alte  Orient,  XIII,  pp. 
23-27. 

2  Cf.  the  similar  thought  in  Prov.  22  :  29,  "Seest  thou  a  man  diligent 
in  his  work,  he  will  stand  before  kings." 


260    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

We  have  the  direct  proof  that  this  view  of  Sha- 
mash  did  not  remain  a  merely  ethical  ideal,  but  that 
it  entered  into  the  practical  life  of  the  people.  The 
great  king  Hammurapi  (c.  2000  B.  C),  who  codified 
the  laws  of  the  land,  places  at  the  head  of  the  large 
diorite  stele  on  which  he  inscribes  the  laws,  a  de- 
sign representing  himself  in  an  attitude  of  adoration 
before  Shamash,1  whom  he  invokes  as  the  one  who 
inspired  him  with  the  spirit  of  righteousness  to  rule 
his  people  according  to  the  will  of  Shamash  himself. 

In  the  introduction  to  the  laws,2  Hammurapi  de- 
clares that  he  was  named  by  the  gods  as  king  of 
Babylonia,  "To  spread  justice  in  the  land,  to  destroy 
the  wicked  and  the  bad,  so  that  the  powerful  may 
not  oppress  the  weak,  in  order  that  I,  like  Shamash, 
may  appear  to  mankind  to  illuminate  the  land, 
Anu  and  Enlil  have  named  me  for  the  guidance  of 
mankind. " 

The  common  titles  given  to  Shamash  in  all  di- 
visions of  Babylonian  and  Assyrian  literature  are: 
"The  Judge,"  "The  Guardian  of  Justice,"  "The 
One  Who  Pronounces  Just  Decrees."  In  his  name 
the  laws  of  the  land  are  executed.  Now,  fine  and 
impressive  as  the  sun-god  is — and  this  represents 
the  high-water  mark  of  religious  aspiration  in  Baby- 
lonia and  Assyria — there  is  nevertheless  a  definite 

1  See  the  illustration  in  Jastrow,  Aspects  of  Belief  and  Practice  in  Baby- 
lonia and  Assyria,  facing  p.  392. 

2  See  the  English  translation  of  the  introduction  and  laws  in  R.  F. 
Harper's  edition,  The  Code  of  Hammurabi  (Chicago,  1903),  or  C.  H. 
W.  Johns,  Oldest  Code  of  Laws  in  the  World  (Edinburgh,  1903),  or  a 
more  recent  German  translation  in  Ungnad-Kohler's  Hammurabis  Ge- 
setz  (Leipzig,  19 12).    The  spelling  of  the  name  with  p  is  the  more  cor- 


HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  ETHICS        261 

limit  set  to  the  development  of  this  view  of  divine 
government  which  associates  justice  and  righteousness 
with  the  personification  of  a  power  of  nature.    Let 
me  endeavour  to  make  clear  what  I  have  in  mind. 
Neither  Babylonians  nor  Assyrians,  in  attaching 
justice   and   righteousness   to   Shamash,   could   lose 
sight  of  the  fact  that  the  sun-god  does  not  always 
show  his  beneficent   nature  to  man.     The  heat  of 
the  sun  brings  forth  the  produce  of  the  earth,  but 
as  his  rays  increase  in  intensity,  the  severe  heat  be- 
comes also  a  destructive  force.    The  sun  of  a  spring 
day,  hailed  with  joy  as  putting  an  end  to  the  cold 
and  the  rain  and  the  storms  of  winter,  develops  into 
the  sun  of  midsummer's  torrid  heat,  bringing  suffer- 
ing and  disease  and  death.     It  was  all  very  well  to 
associate  this  aspect  of  the  sun  with  a  god  known 
as  Nergal,1  but  that  could  not  prevent  the  people 
nor,  for  that  matter  also,  the  priests  from  overlook- 
ing the  fact  that  Nergal  represented  precisely  the 
same  power  of  nature  as  Shamash.     In  hymns2  in 
which  Nergal,  precisely  like  Shamash,  is  praised  as 
the  power  without  whom  the  earth  does  not  bear 
fruit,  he  is  found  occasionally  referred  to  as  merci- 
ful, but  the  general  picture  drawn  of  him  is  that  of 
"a  destructive  warrior,"   "clothed  in  terror,"   "of 
mighty  powers,"  "without  a  rival  among  the  gods," 
"overthrowing  the  rebellious,  and  overwhelming  the 
powerful."     He   is   described   as   a   mighty   dragon 
pouring  venom  over  everything,  as  a  mighty  giant 

1  See  above,  p.  144. 

2  See  specimens  in  Jastrow,  Religion  Babyloniens  und  Assyriens,  I,  pp. 
467-480. 


262    HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

with  a  drawn  sword,  or,  again,  as  prowling  about  at 
night  and  inflicting  havoc  on  all  sides.  It  will  be 
recalled  *  that  Nergal  is  transferred  to  the  head- 
ship of  the  pantheon  of  the  lower  world,  as  the  power 
which  forces  the  living  to  exchange  this  world  for 
the  eternal  prison,  gloomy  and  dark.  If  then  the 
power  bringing  life  and  joy  and  cheer  can  be 
transformed  through  the  natural  course  of  nature 
into  a  destructive,  cruel,  and  death-dealing  force, 
it  is  evident  that  a  definite  limit  is  thus  set  to  the 
development  of  ethical  ideas  in  the  relationship  be- 
tween man  and  the  gods.  The  only  outcome  of  the 
dilemma  would  be  the  assumption  that  the  benefi- 
cent power  punishes  evil  and  the  wrong-doer.  But 
this  solution  would  not  apply  to  the  case  in  point, 
since  the  sun  of  midsummer  strikes  the  just  and 
the  unjust  alike,  nor  is  there  the  slightest  suggestion 
in  the  religious  literature  of  Babylonia  and  Assyria 
that  Nergal's  wrath  is  due  to  the  sins  of  mankind. 
He  is  a  god  without  mercy,  cruel  by  nature,  who 
strikes  whenever  and  whomsoever  he  can. 

The  problem  of  the  existence  of  evil  in  a  world 
supposed  to  be  created  by  a  power  of  goodness  is 
difficult  enough,  as  we  have  seen,2  but  when  this 
power  is  conceived  as  a  purely  spiritual  force,  and 
not  as  a  personification  of  some  material  phenomena, 
there  is  at  least  a  possibility  of  reaching  a  solution 
which  explains  the  sufferings  and  misfortunes  as  due 
either  to  man's  sinful  nature,  or  that  such  trials  are 
sent  to  test  the  calibre  of  man's  moral  strength  and 

1  Above,  pp.  204  seq.  2  Above,  p.  235. 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  ETHICS         263 

religious  faith.1  We  have,  then,  in  the  material  as- 
pects of  the  relationship  between  man  and  the  gods 
definite  limits  set  to  the  infusion  of  the  ethical  spirit, 
nor  are  these  limitations  set  aside  by  the  tendency, 
to  be  noted  at  a  comparatively  early  stage  in  the 
unfolding  of  the  Babylonian  and  Assyrian  religion, 
to  heap  on  some  single  deity  the  powers  and  attri- 
butes of  all  the  others.  This  tendency,  despite  the 
assumptions  of  some  scholars,  never  led  to  any  real 
monotheistic  system  of  religious  thought.  We  find 
at  different  times  and  in  different  centres  deities 
like  Enlil,  Ea,  and  Shamash,  addressed  in  terms 
which  clearly  indicate  that  quite  apart  from  the 
power  of  nature,  which  they  orginally  personified, 
these  gods  became  the  embodiment  of  divine  gov- 
ernment of  the  universe  viewed  as  a  unit.  This 
tendency  finds  its  most  complete  expression  in  the 
case  of  Marduk,  originally  a  sun-god,  and  who,  from 
being  the  patron  of  the  city  of  Babylon,  becomes,  as 
we  have  seen,2  the  head  of  the  Babylonian  pantheon, 
upon  the  definite  constitution  of  the  empire  that 
had  its  seat  in  the  city  of  Babylon.  Marduk  not 
only  absorbs  the  powers  of  Enlil,  Shamash,  Ea, 
Adad,  and  others,  but  he  is  even  designated  by  the 
names  of  these  various  deities.  A  fragmentary 
tablet3  that  has  been  the  subject  of  considerable 
discussion  tells  us  that: 

1  Such  are  the  conventional  points  of  view  urged  by  the  friends  of 
Job  in  their  speeches. 

2  Above,  p.  6y. 

3  Cuneiform  Texts  from  Babylonian  Tablets,  etc.,  in  the  British  Museum, 
XXIV,  PL  50.  The  tablet  was  first  published  by  T.  G.  Pinches  in  the 
Journal  of  the  Victoria  Institute,  1896,  pp.  8  seq. 


264    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

"Ea  is  the  Marduk  of  canals. 
Ninib  is  the  Marduk  of  strength. 
Nergal  is  the  Marduk  of  war. 
Zamama  is  the  Marduk  of  battle. 
Enlil  is  the  Marduk  of  sovereignty  and  control. 
Nebo  is  the  Marduk  of  possession. 
Sin  is  the  Marduk  of  illumination  of  the  night. 
Shamash  is  the  Marduk  of  justice 
Adad  is  the  Marduk  of  rain,"  etc. 

But  this  is  far  removed  from  any  genuine  mono- 
theism. It  may  be  designated  as  henotheism,  to 
use  the  well-known  term  introduced  by  the  late 
Max  Muller.  But  the  mere  fact  that  the  cult  of 
the  other  gods  with  whom  Marduk  is  identified 
proceeded  undisturbed  by  this  absorption  of  other 
roles  is  a  sufficient  indication  that  even  henotheism 
was  not  consistently  carried  out.  Even  if  it  had 
been,  Babylonia  and  Assyria  would  never  have 
reached  the  point  of  conceiving  divine  government 
in  terms  of  ethics  pure  and  simple,  as  long  as  a 
chief  deity  was  identified  with  a  power  of  nature  or 
projected  on  the  heavens  and  identified  with  a  star 
— the  planet  Jupiter  in  the  case  of  Marduk.  A  theo- 
logical system  that  cannot  rid  itself  of  a  material- 
istic conception  of  divine  Power  has  definite  barriers 
set  to  its  growth.  It  must  be  remembered  also  that 
monotheism,  viewed  merely  as  a  doctrine,  does  not 
necessarily  lead  to  a  higher  form  of  religious  aspira- 
tion. The  belief  may  be,  and  frequently  is,  the  out- 
come of  purely  philosophical  speculation.  Mono- 
theism becomes  religious  only  in  proportion  as  there 
is  infused  into  the  one  Power  of  the  universe  an  eth- 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN   ETHICS         265 

ical  spirit  free  from  all  materialistic  implications. 
The  monotheism  of  the  Hebrew  Prophets  is  a  relig- 
ious doctrine,  not  because  the  Prophets  made  Yah- 
weh  the  single  source  of  all  phenomena  and  occur- 
rences, but  because  they  conceived  of  Yahweh  as  a 
spiritual  force  ruling  the  universe  by  self-imposed 
laws  of  justice  and  righteousness.  It  is  because  of 
this  element  that  the  national  Yahweh  becomes  the 
universal  Jehovah. 

Ill 

The  limitations  of  Babylonian  and  Assyrian  eth- 
ics show  themselves  also  in  what  the  Babylonians  and 
Assyrians  regarded  as  the  real  aim  of  life.  Material 
blessings,  prosperity,  success  in  war  and  in  private 
undertakings  are  emphasised  in  both  the  secular 
and  religious  literature.  Perhaps  we  may  add  to 
these  benefits  also  tranquillity  of  the  soul,  but  even 
with  this  addition  the  aim  of  existence  is  far  from 
impressing  us  as  inspiring,  or  as  bringing  out  the 
best  elements  in  human  nature.  The  scope  taken 
by  divination  methods  in  everything  pertaining  to 
public  and  private  life  throughout  all  periods  of 
Babylonian  and  Assyrian  history  is  a  sufficient  proof 
for  the  thesis  here  maintained,  that  the  aim  of  life 
was  too  closely  associated  with  materialistic  bene- 
fits to  furnish  a  stimulus  towards  higher  things,  or 
to  become  a  force  leading  to  nobility  and  to  the 
exercise  of  the  highest  virtues.  The  main  concern 
of  the  Babylonian  and  Assyrian  religion,  viewed 
from  the  practical  side,   appears  to  have  been   to 


266    HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

serve  as  a  means  of  ascertaining  the  fate  in  store 
for  the  country,  for  the  king  as  the  representative 
of  the  gods,  and  for  the  individual  so  far  as  individ- 
ualism entered  at  all  into  the  religion.  Whether 
through  the  inspection  of  the  liver  of  the  sacrificial 
animal,  or  through  the  observation  of  the  signs  in 
the  heavens,  or  through  unusual  phenomena  in  the 
case  of  new-born  animals  and  infants,  the  priests 
attached  to  the  temples  endeavoured  to  meet  these 
prime  religious  needs  by  making  elaborate  collections 
of  handbooks  which,  furnishing  an  interpretation 
of  all  possible  signs  and  symptoms  in  the  case  of  the 
three  chief  divisions  of  divination  lore,  might  en- 
able them  to  give  an  answer  to  anxious  inquiries. 
The  significant  feature  of  these  divination  methods 
is  that  the  interpretations  attached  to  the  collec- 
tions of  omens  all  bear  on  purely  material  benefits 
or  material  ills.  According  to  signs  observed  in  the 
liver,  according  to  the  phenomena  and  movements 
of  the  heavenly  bodies,  or  according  to  anomalies 
noted  in  the  case  of  the  young  of  animals  and  of 
infants,1  a  conclusion  was  drawn  whether  crops 
would  be  favourable,  whether  rain  would  be  abun- 
dant, whether  a  proposed  military  campaign  would 
be  successful,  whether  disease  would  strike  down  or 
life  be  prolonged,  whether  riches  would  be  acquired 
— all  answers  very  much  of  the  same  nature  that 
those  receive  who  consult  the  astrologers,  the  clair- 

1  For  a  full  exposition  of  Babylonian-Assyrian  divination,  see  the 
second  volume  of  the  author's  Religion  Babyloniens  und  Assyriens,  pp. 
203-969.  A  brief  survey  will  also  be  found  in  the  author's  Aspects  of 
Belief  and  Practice  in  Babylonia  and  Assyria,  chapters  III  and  IV. 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  ETHICS         267 

voyants,  and  the  fortune-tellers  of  our  own  days. 
It  will  be  admitted  that  a  religion  which  concerns 
itself  so  largely  with  a  purely  material  aspect  of  life 
is  not  likely  to  furnish  us  with  a  very  lofty  aim  of 
existence.  Many  people  still  consult  astrologers  and 
fortune-tellers,  but  it  is  safe  to  say  that  very  few 
delude  themselves  into  the  belief  that  in  doing  so 
they  are  performing  a  religious  function.  We  go  to 
houses  of  worship  and  invoke  the  divine  mercy,  but 
we  would  not  think  much  of  the  religious  spirit  of  a 
preacher  who  would  translate  this  appeal  into  purely 
materialistic  terms.  We  all  desire  success.  Many 
of  us  long  for  wealth.  All  people  are  grateful  for 
health,  and  long  for  tranquillity  of  soul,  but  we  look 
on  religion  not  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  these 
needs  but  rather  as  a  means  of  using  them  in  the 
proper  way  when  we  secure  them.  That  idealistic 
element  is  entirely  lacking,  in  so  far  as  our  material 
enables  us  to  judge,  in  the  religion  of  Babylonia  and 
Assyria,  and  it  is  only  through  the  addition  of  such 
an  element  that  we  attain  an  aim  in  life  worthy  of 
the  dignity  of  man. 

The  lack  of  any  inspiring  goal  of  life  is  illustrated 
in  the  case  of  the  Babylonians  and  Assyrians  in  their 
attitude  towards  surrounding  and  distant  nations. 
It  is  frequently  maintained  that  the  Babylonians 
were,  on  the  whole,  a  peace-loving  people,  in  contrast 
to  the  Assyrians  to  whom  war  seemed  to  be  a  nat- 
ural exercise  of  power,  as  essential  to  them  as  breath 
itself.  There  is  an  element  of  truth  in  this  general- 
isation, but  if  pressed  too  hard  the  generalisation 


268    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

becomes  false.  In  the  earliest  period  of  Babylonian 
history  we  find  the  Euphrates  Valley  divided  into  a 
number  of  states  constantly  at  war  with  one  another. 
The  aim  of  each  principality  was  to  secure  a  control 
over  the  others,  and  as  the  rulers  of  one  centre 
obtained  a  position  of  supremacy,  their  eyes  were 
directed  to  conquest  beyond  the  natural  confines. 
To  the  east  of  Babylon  lay  Elam.  Some  of  the 
earliest  records  that  we  have  deal  with  the  constant 
hostilities  between  Babylon  and  Elam,  and  some  of 
the  finest  monuments  furnish  an  illustration  of  this 
severe  and  bitter  contest  which  continued  for  cen- 
turies until  Babylonia  finally  worsted  her  rival. 
The  Babylonians  themselves  were  obliged  to  submit 
for  a  period  of  over  five  hundred  years1  to  a  foreign 
people  who  came  from  the  mountainous  districts  to 
the  east  and  northeast  of  the  Euphrates  Valley. 

These  Cassites,  as  they  were  called,  endeavoured 
to  extend  their  rule  into  the  north,  into  Assyria 
proper.  Babylonia  and  Assyria  became  from  about 
the  eleventh  century  on,  rival  powers,  and  if  the 
idea  of  world  conquest  originated  with  the  north- 
ern empire,  it  is  largely  due  to  the  growing  strength 
of  the  North,  which  placed  Babylonia  for  many 
centuries  on  a  defensive  position  against  Assyria, 
until  finally  she  was  obliged  to  submit  to  the  yoke 
imposed  upon  her  by  Assyrian  rulers.  Assyria  car- 
ried the  disposition  to  exercise  control  over  a  large 
territory  much  further  than  Babylonia,  but  there  is 
little  reason  to  question  that  Babylonia  would  have 

1  From  c.  1750  to  c.  1200  B.  C. 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN   ETHICS         269 

imitated  the  example  of  Assyria  had  she  been  able 
to  do  so.     In   fact,   as  we  have   seen,1   Sargon,   of 
Agade,  founded  an  empire  which  was  designated  as 
embracing  the  "four  quarters  of  the  world."     The 
higher  culture  of  the  south,   and  which  gradually 
spread  to  the  north,  exercised,  to  be  sure,  a  certain 
restraint,  chiefly  because  with  the  growth  of  com- 
merce wars  became  a  much  more  serious  menace  to 
the  prosperity  of  the  country.     But  this  restraint 
would  never  have  been  strong  enough  to  overcome 
the  ambition  of  Babylonia  to  rank  as  the  mistress 
of  the  world  had  she  been  in  a  position  to  do  so. 
Assyrian  rulers,  like  Tiglath-Pileser  I  in  the  eleventh 
century,  like  Sargon  and  his  successors  in  the  eighth 
and  seventh  centuries,  who  were  fired  with  the  am- 
bition to  spread  the  power  of  Assyria  on  all  sides, 
were  merely  carrying  out  the  policy  introduced  by 
the  older  Sargon  of  the  south,  as  early  as  the  middle 
or  the  beginning  of  the  third  millennium  before  this 
era. 

It  cannot  be  my  purpose  to  enter  into  a  discus- 
sion of  the  ethical  justification  of  war.  It  may  be 
that  war  represents  a  natural  state  of  affairs  among 
mankind,  and  that  it  corresponds,  as  some  philos- 
ophers tell  us,  to  the  struggle  going  on  in  all  nature. 
Let  us  admit  that  up  to  a  certain  period  in  the  de- 
velopment of  human  civilisation  war  is  the  expres- 
sion of  the  struggle  for  existence,  and  that  for  main- 
taining one's  possessions  and  defending  them  from 
attacks  war  is  inevitable  even  in  advanced  stages 

1  Above,  pp.  12  seq. 


270    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

of  culture.  But  if  human  history  impresses  any  les- 
son upon  us,  it  certainly  teaches  that  war  is  not  a 
factor  in  the  progress  of  human  culture,  or  in  lead- 
ing to  a  higher  development  of  the  race.  Culture, 
the  advance  of  the  arts,  the  rise  of  literature,  a 
growing  sense  of  humanitarianism,  all  these  achieve- 
ments have  come  not  because  of  war  but  in  spite  of 
it,  and  it  is  perfectly  reasonable  to  assume  that  we 
would  be  much  further  advanced  on  the  highroad  of 
civilisation  were  it  not  for  the  ravages,  the  cruel- 
ties, and  the  misery  inflicted  on  mankind  through 
endless  bloody  struggles.  The  evils  existing  in  the 
world  at  the  present  time — the  evils  of  poverty,  the 
oppression  of  the  weak  by  the  strong,  the  mischief 
wrought  through  bitter  hatred,  through  social  and 
religious  prejudices — are  to  a  large  extent  the  direct 
outcome  of  the  desire  for  conquest,  which  at  all 
times  has  proved  a  serious  check  to  the  unfolding  of 
the  highest  ethics. 

The  cruelty  of  war  increases  as  we  go  backward 
in  the  track  of  time.  On  old  Babylonian  monu- 
ments, as  well  as  on  more  recent  illustrations  of 
warfare  with  which  Assyrian  kings  decorated  their 
palace  walls,  the  element  of  cruelty  is  a  strikingly 
prominent  feature.  Naram-Sin  depicts  himself  in 
the  act  of  driving  an  arrow  into  the  neck  of  a  cap- 
tive pleading  for  mercy.1  As  one  of  the  wall  dec- 
orations of  an  Assyrian  palace  we  find  the  heads  of 
the  slain  enemy2  heaped  up  before  royal  officers  in 

:  See  the  illustration  in  Jastrow,  Aspects  of  Belief  and  Practice  in  Baby- 
lonia and  Assyria,  facing  p.  22. 

2  See  Paterson,  Assyrian  Sculptures,  Palace  of  Sinacherib,  PI.  52. 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  ETHICS         271 

the  act  of  counting  them.  With  such  examples,  it 
was  inevitable  that  the  people  in  their  relations  to 
one  another  should  have  been  actuated  to  a  certain 
extent  at  least  by  the  same  spirit.  The  gods  are 
invoked  before  battle  is  given.  They  are  repre- 
sented as  being  in  the  midst  of  the  fray,  and  in  their 
name  and  with  their  help  not  only  is  the  enemy 
conquered  but  conquered  towns  are  burned  and 
pillaged,  the  men  slaughtered,  and  the  women  and 
children  captured. 

IV 

On  the  other  hand,  it  comes  as  a  surprise  to  us  to 
find  in  another  department  of  activity,  which  is 
sometimes  looked  upon  as  akin  to  war,  namely 
commercial  undertakings,  a  spirit  of  fairness  prevail- 
ing in  Babylonia  and  Assyria  which  shows  itself  not 
merely  in  the  numerous  records  of  commercial  trans- 
actions but  in  the  regulations  embodied  in  the  code 
of  Hammurapi  and  on  clay  tablets  furnishing  legal 
decisions  for  the  regulation  of  questions  arising  from 
the  growth  of  business  activity.1  The  rulers  them- 
selves furnish  an  example  of  respect  for  law  which 
is  all  the  more  surprising  when  we  consider  how  by 
their  own  confession  they  had  so  little  respect  for 
the  life  and  property  of  those  against  whom  they 
took  up  arms.  Assyrian  conquerors  like  Sargon 
mention  with  pride  among  their  exploits  the  regu- 
lation of  the  rights  of  citizens.     Assyrian  kings  imi- 

1  Specimens  from  various  periods  will  be  found  in  Johns,  Babylonian 
and  Assyrian  Laws,  Contracts,  and  Letters  (New  York,  1904),  pp.  80-115 
and  227-303. 


272    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

tate  the  example  of  Hammurapi  in  emphasising  their 
desire  that  their  reigns  should  be  marked  by  justice 
to  all,  and  in  setting  forth  their  aim  to  protect  the 
weak  against  the  strong.  The  example  set  by  the 
rulers  had  its  influence  upon  the  people,  so  that  we 
find  as  a  marked  characteristic  both  of  Babylonians 
and  Assyrians  a  respect  for  law,  which  carries  with 
it  also  the  desire  for  fair  dealings  in  business  life. 
A  considerable  portion  of  the  statutes  in  Hammu- 
rapi's  code  is  taken  up  with  the  regulation  of  com- 
mercial transactions.  In  their  general  spirit  these 
laws  are  humane  and  aim  to  secure  an  equal  advan- 
tage so  far  as  possible  to  two  contending  parties. 
It  is  provided,1  for  example,  that  a  person  who  takes 
a  field  under  contract  to  cultivate  is  responsible  for 
a  produce  equal  in  amount  to  that  grown  in  a 
neighbouring  field.  If  he  fails  to  carry  out  the 
contract  he  must  not  only  pay  the  amount  of  the 
produce,  but  he  must  also  undertake  the  cultivation 
for  the  future  produce.  If  a  man  lets  a  field  for  a 
fixed  sum  he  takes  the  risk  of  the  failure  of  the 
crop.  If  the  proprietor  of  a  tilled  field  has  pledged 
it  to  some  one  and  then  takes  the  produce  (to  which 
he  is  not  entitled),  he  must  restore  to  the  man  to 
whom  the  field  has  been  pledged  the  capital,  inter- 
est, and,  as  a  fine,  the  cost  of  the  maintenance  of  the 
field.  Any  one  who  uses  for  his  own  purpose  money 
or  anything  given  to  him  in  trust  must  restore  the 
full  amount,  plus  one-fifth  of  the  value  as  a  fine.2 
A  creditor  who  helps  himself  without  legal  author- 

1  §§  42-47.  2§H2. 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN   ETHICS         273 

ity  to  a  possession  of  the  debtor  is  obliged  to  re- 
store what  he  has  taken  and  forfeits  his  claim.1 

The  code  of  Hammurapi  also  throws  a  favourable 
light  on  the  ethical  spirit  in  which  relations  between 
husband  and  wife,  and  father  and  children  were 
regulated.2  Infidelity  on  the  part  of  the  wife  was 
severely  punished.  True,  the  ordeal  by  means  of 
water  to  ascertain  the  guilt  or  innocence  of  the  wife 
is  included  in  the  regulations  of  the  code,  but  a 
paragraph  is  added  which  virtually  abrogates  this 
primitive  method  of  testing  the  guilt  of  the  woman, 
for  it  is  stipulated  that  if  she  swears  an  oath  attest- 
ing her  innocence,  she  may  return  to  her  family.  If 
a  woman,  availing  herself  of  her  husband's  impris- 
onment as  a  prisoner  of  war,  marries  without  being 
forced  by  stress  of  necessity  she  is  put  to  death  by 
drowning,  but  if  she  does  so  under  stress  of  neces- 
sity she  is  not  punished.  On  the  return  of  her 
husband  the  first  marriage  regains  its  legality,  and 
the  children  of  the  second  marriage  belong  to  the 
second  husband. 

Polygamy  was  recognised  among  the  Babylonians 
as  it  was  among  the  ancient  Hebrews,  but  it  is  in- 
teresting to  note  endeavours  to  regulate  conditions 
under  which  a  concubine  is  to  be  admitted  to  the 
household.  In  case  the  first  marriage  is  without 
issue  a  man  can  take  a  second  wife,  but  she  is  not 
given  the  privileges  belonging  to  the  first.  If  a  wife 
becomes  an  invalid  the  man  may  take  a  second  wife, 
but  he  is  obliged  to  support  the  first  one  as  long  as 
1  §  ii3-  2§§n8,  195- 


274    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

she  lives,  and  if  the  invalid  wife  so  desires  she  may 
leave  her  husband's  house  and  still  claim  support. 
The  old  law  according  to  which  wife  and  children 
are  the  property  of  the  husband  and  father  is  the- 
oretically recognised  but  practically  abrogated,  so 
that  gifts  made  by  the  husband  to  his  wife  consti- 
tute her  property;  nor  can  this  property  be  claimed 
by  the  children  as  long  as  the  mother  lives. 

Incest  of  all  kinds1  is  severely  punished — the 
intercourse  of  a  father  with  his  own  daughter  by 
the  banishment  of  the  father;  of  a  man  with  his 
daughter-in-law  by  death;  incest  of  a  man  with 
the  betrothed  of  his  son  by  a  heavy  fine  and  by 
the  dissolution  of  the  betrothal.  A  man  may  legit- 
imatise  the  children  born  to  him  of  a  maid,  and 
such  children  have  an  equal  share  in  the  paternal 
estate.  Even  slaves  were  recognised  as  having  the 
right  to  property  of  their  own,  a  remarkable  fact 
that  practically  changed  slavery  to  an  indenture, 
much  as  in  the  oldest  of  the  Pentateuchal  Codes 
slavery  is  recognised,  but  in  being  limited  to  six  years 
of  service  is  thereby  similarly  converted  to  mere 
indenture.2  This  method  of  changing  the  character 
of  ancient  laws  without  directly  abrogating  them  is 
characteristic  of  legal  procedure  in  antiquity.  The 
theory  underlying  law  among  the  Hebrews,  the  Baby- 
lonians, and  elsewhere  was  that  a  legal  decision 
was  a  decree  issued  in  the  name  of  the  deity.  In 
other  words,  the  law  was  an  oracle,  and  it  is  signif- 
icant that   the  Hebrew  word  for  a  legal  decision, 

1  §§  154-158.  2Ex.  21  :  2. 


HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  ETHICS        275 

lord,  finds  its  equivalent  in  the  Babylonian  tertu, 
which  is  the  common  term  for  an  omen  or  an  oracle. 
The  judge  was  a  representative  of  the  deity,  and 
therefore  it  was  held  that  a  law  as  such  could  never 
be  abrogated,  but  new  decisions  could  be  rendered 
which  had  the  practical  effect  of  replacing  primitive 
law  with  one  revealing  a  more  advanced  stage  of 
understanding.  I  have  just  called  attention  to  the 
fact  that  the  Babylonian  law  still  recognised  the 
right  of  the  man  to  sell  his  wife  and  children.  The 
Hebrews,  too,  must  have  had  a  law  of  this  kind,  but 
in  the  so-called  Book  of  the  Covenant  (Ex.  21  :  7 
seq.)  it  is  modified  in  a  manner  which  converts  the 
sale  of  a  man's  daughter  into  a  hire  of  her  services, 
with  a  view  to  her  marriage  with  her  new  master. 
The  Hammurapi  code  is  similarly  full  of  exam- 
ples of  later  modifications  of  legal  decisions  which, 
while  maintaining  the  original  principle,  modify  the 
method  of  applying  the  principle.  Thus  the  primi- 
tive lex  talionis,  or  the  law  of  retaliation,  is  found 
in  the  code,1  couched  in  precisely  the  same  terms 
as  in  the  biblical  codes,  "eye  for  eye,  tooth  for  tooth, 
bone  for  bone,"  but  just  as  in  the  biblical  codes2 
this  principle  is  made  the  basis  for  a  compensation 
equal  to  the  value  of  the  injured  limb  or  organ, 
with  a  distinction,  to  be  sure,  between  the  two  classes 
of  citizens,  the  freeman  and  the  dependent.  In  the 
case  of  injury  to  a  dependent  the  valuation  of  the 
injury  is  imposed  as  a  fine,  but  in  the  case  of  a  free- 

1  §§  196-201. 

2  See,  e.  g.,  Ex.  21  :  26-27,  which  stipulates  that  the  slave  whose  eye  or 
tooth  has  been  injured  by  his  master  is  to  be  given  his  freedom. 


276    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

man  the  old  law  is  still  literally  applied,  and  eye 
for  eye,  tooth  for  tooth,  bone  for  bone,  is  meted  out 
as  a  punishment. 

While  fully  recognising  the  limitations  in  the  de- 
velopment of  Babylonian  ethics,  due  in  no  inconsid- 
erable measure  to  this  distinction  between  classes, 
we  must  not  fall  into  the  error  of  underestimating 
the  extent  to  which  ethical  principles  were  recog- 
nised by  the  people  as  an  ideal.  We  have,  fortu- 
nately, preserved  among  the  tablets  of  Ashurbana- 
pal's  library  quite  a  number  of  texts  furnishing 
ethical  precepts  not  unlike  the  collections  in  the 
biblical  book  of  Proverbs.  On  these  tablets  we  find 
utterances  like  the  following:1 

"Thou  shalt  not  slander;  speak  what  is  pure. 
Thou  shalt  not  speak  evil;  speak  kindly. 
He  who  slanders  and  speaks  evil, 
Shamash  will  visit  recompense  on  his  head. 
Let  not  thy  mouth  boast,  guard  thy  lip. 
When  thou  art  angered,  do  not  speak  at  once, 
For  if  thou  speakest  in  anger  thou  wilt  repent  after- 
wards, 
And  in  silence  sadden  thy  mind.  .  .  . 
To  thy  God  come  with  a  pure  heart, 
For  that  is  proper  toward  the  Deity. 
Prayer,  penitence,  and  prostration  early  in  the  morn- 
ing render  him, 
And  with  the  god's  help  thou  wilt  prosper. 
In  thy  wisdom  learn  from  the  tablet. 
The  fear  of  God  begets  favor,  offerings  enrich. 
Love  and  prayer  bring  forgiveness  of  sin.  .  .  . 
Give  food  to  eat,  wine  to  drink, 

1  Cuneiform  Texts  from  Babylonian  Tablets,  etc.,  in  the  British  Museum, 
Part  XIII,  PI.  29-30.  Another  text  of  this  character  is  translated  by 
Zimmern  in  Der  Alte  Orient,  XIII,  i,  pp.  27-29. 


HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  ETHICS        277 

Seek  what  is  right,  avoid  what  is  wrong, 
For  this  is  pleasing  to  God. 
It  is  pleasing  to  Shamash; 
He  will  requite  him." 

Now  we  must,  as  a  matter  of  course,  make  due 
allowance  for  a  possibly  wide  gap  between  ideal  and 
practice,  but  the  existence  of  the  ideal  forms  a 
means  of  estimating  the  height  of  the  ethical  aim.  It 
would  appear,  indeed,  that  cruelty  among  Babylo- 
nians and  Assyrians  was  largely  exercised  on  the 
enemy,  on  those  with  whom  one  was  engaged  in  a 
deadly  contest.  The  limitations  of  Babylonian  and 
Assyrian  ethics  are  thus  a  reflection  on  the  cruelty 
of  war  rather  than  on  the  character  of  the  people. 
This  defect  in  the  ethical  system  of  Babylonia  and 
Assyria  resolves  itself  therefore  into  a  criticism  of 
one  of  the  distinctive  features  of  the  Babylonian  and 
Assyrian  civilisation,  the  insatiate  thirst  for  con- 
quest and  for  bringing  neighbouring  nations  into  a 
condition  of  subjection. 

A  more  serious  indictment  may  be  made  from  the 
point  of  view  emphasised  at  the  outset  of  our  in- 
vestigations regarding  the  relationship  between  man 
and  the  gods.  It  is,  perhaps,  idle  to  speculate  what 
course  would  have  been  taken  by  the  Euphratean 
civilisation  had  the  Babylonians  and  Assyrians  aban- 
doned the  policy  of  conquest,  but  it  is,  I  think,  safe 
to  assume  that  the  general  character  of  the  ethics 
would  not  have  been  materially  altered,  unless  the 
priests  had  imbued  the  people  with  a  spirit  which 
would  have  remodelled  the  materialistic  conception 


278    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

of  the  government  of  the  universe  through  powers 
not  only  beyond  human  control  but  outside  the 
province  of  any  law.  So  long  as  divine  government 
was  interpreted  in  terms  of  power,  and  power  of  an 
essentially  materialistic  character,  we  might  have  a 
strong  emphasis  on  fair  dealings  in  business  trans- 
actions, we  might  have  an  endeavour  to  regulate 
family  relationships  in  an  equable  spirit,  rulers 
might  set  an  example  of  profound  respect  for  law, 
ethical  precepts  might  be  taught  by  the  priests,  and 
yet  so  long  as  power  was  conceived  of  not  merely 
as  an  element  in  divine  government  but  as  its 
supreme  manifestation,  the  aim  of  life  could  never 
have  risen  beyond  a  desire  to  secure  material  bless- 
ings. This  is  well  brought  out  in  one  of  the  episodes 
of  the  Gilgamesh  epic,  in  which  the  advice  is  given 
to  the  hero  to  desist  from  the  attempt  to  seek  im- 
mortality and  to  content  himself  with  the  joys  and 
pleasures  of  this  world.1 

"Thou,  Oh,  Gilgamesh,  let  thy  belly  be  full. 
Day  and  night  be  merry, 
Daily  celebrate  a  feast, 
Day  and  night  dance  and  make  merry. 
Clean  be  thy  clothes,  anointed  be  thy  head; 
Be  washed  daily  in  pure  water. 
Look  joyfully  on  the  child  that  grasps  thy  hand; 
Be  happy  with  the  wife  in  thy  arms." 

The  passage  reminds  us  of  the  spirit  of  the  book 
of  Ecclesiastes  which,  in  fact,  gives  the  same  advice 
in  almost  the  same  words:  2 

1  See  above,  p.  211.  2  Chapter  9  :  7-9. 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  ETHICS        279 

"Go  thy  way,  eat  thy  bread  with  joy,  and  drink  thy  wine  with 

a  merry  heart. 
Let  thy  garments  be  always  white,  and  let  thy  head  not  lack 

ointment. 
Live  joyfully  with  thy  wife  whom  thou  lovest, 
All  the  days  of  thy  life  of  vanity  which  He  hath  given  thee  under 

the  sun, 
For  that  is  thy  portion." 

We  will  presently  see  that  Hebrew  ethics  found  a 
corrective,  or  rather  the  answer  to  the  implications 
of  such  teachings.  The  fact  that  the  advice  is  em- 
bodied in  the  epic  of  Gilgamesh— the  most  impor- 
tant literary  achievement  of  Babylonia — may  be 
taken  as  an  indication  that  for  the  Babylonians, 
even  for  those  who  had  attained  the  highest  level, 
the  advice  to  the  hero  reflects  the  aim  of  life,  which, 
to  be  sure,  includes  acting  fairly,  dealing  out  justice, 
fulfilling  one's  obligations  towards  men  and  towards 
the  gods,  but  all  this  in  order  that  it  might  bring  as 
a  reward  the  enjoyment  of  the  material  pleasures  of 
this  world. 


There  is  no  warrant  for  assuming  that  the  He- 
brews started  out  with  a  better  equipment  for  the 
development  of  ethics  than  the  Babylonians,  or  than 
any  of  the  nations  by  whom  they  were  surrounded 
in  their  own  country.  The  early  traditions  and 
narratives  show  us  the  Hebrews  living  very  much  the 
same  kind  of  life  as  the  other  groups  in  Palestine. 
The  stories   of  the   Patriarchs  give  us  fascinating 


280    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

pictures  of  conditions  existing  at  the  time  when  the 
Hebrews,  or,  at  all  events,  when  some  of  the  Hebrew 
settlers  led  a  nomadic  life.  The  story  of  Laban's 
dealings  with  Jacob,  and  Jacob's  success  in  getting 
the  better  of  the  tricky  Laban,  may  be  taken  as 
characteristic  of  the  ethics  of  the  time.  Laban  makes 
various  promises,  to  give  Jacob  his  daughter  Rachel, 
to  compensate  him  for  his  labours,  all  of  which 
promises  he  breaks.  Jacob  apparently  submits,  but 
at  a  critical  moment  when  Laban  agrees  to  a  cer- 
tain proposition  that  all  speckled  and  spotted  sheep 
born  in  the  fold  should  belong  to  Jacob,  the  latter, 
by  an  ingenious  device,  brings  it  about  that  all  the 
young  lambs  are  speckled  and  spotted.1  This  strat- 
egy is  not  only  approved,  but  it  is  intimated  that 
this  success  was  due  to  the  fact  that  Jacob  was  aided 
by  Yahweh.  Both  Jacob  and  his  mother  deceived 
the  enfeebled  father,  Isaac.  Such  stories  were  evi- 
dently popular,  and  reflected  at  one  time  the  general 
spirit  of  the  people.  To  be  sure,  there  were  other 
narrators  who  felt  that  such  stories  were  not  alto- 
gether edifying,  and  so  we  find  one  of  the  writers 
represented  in  the  book  of  Genesis  omitting  the  de- 
tail of  Rebecca's  and  Jacob's  deception,  and  indicat- 
ing as  the  reason  why  Rebecca  urges  Jacob  to  leave 
his  home  and  why  Isaac  consents  to  this  plan,  be- 
cause Esau  had  taken  wives  from  the  surrounding 
peoples  and  for  fear  that  Jacob  might  do  the  same.2 
This  motive  reveals  the  opposition  at  a  very  late 

1  Gen.  30  :  31-39.     Two  versions  of  the  story  have  been  combined  in 
the  narrative. 

2  The  little  section,  Gen.  27  :  46-28  :  9,  is  from  the  Elohist  document. 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  ETHICS        281 

period  to  mixed  marriages,  but  the  significant  point 
of  interest  for  us  is  that  it  is  introduced  to  remove 
the  bad  taste  left  by  the  story  of  the  deception 
practised  on  the  husband  and  father. 

The  books  of  Joshua  and  Judges  furnish  various 
traditions  of  the  conquest  of  Palestine  by  the  He- 
brews,1 and  are  full  of  instances  which  show  us  that 
the  Hebrews  acted  precisely  as  other  groups  did 
when  engaged  in  bloody  contests  with  enemies.  The 
pages  of  the  Books  of  Kings  are  stained  with  blood- 
shed, with  deeds  of  cruelty,  tyranny,  and  dishonesty. 
The  court  of  David  is  a  hotbed  of  intrigue.  Solo- 
mon in  introducing  splendour  and  a  degree  of  lux- 
ury which  contrasted  so  glaringly  with  the  former 
simplicity  of  life,  paved  the  way  for  corruption  and 
for  those  internal  dissensions  that  played  havoc 
with  the  political  fortunes  of  both  the  north  and 
the  south.  What  is  it,  then,  that  enabled  the  He- 
brews eventually  to  rise  superior  to  their  surround- 
ings and  to  come  out  of  the  ordeal  of  growing 
political  weakness  and  of  a  national  catastrophe 
that  seemed  to  foreshadow  the  extinction  of  the 
people,  with  a  spiritual  power  that  found  an  expres- 
sion in  masterpieces  of  religious  literature  which, 
for  a  certain  flavour  of  thought,  have  never  been 
excelled  in  the  history  of  mankind  and  remain  up 
to  the  present  time  the  basis  for  the  ethical  inter- 
pretation of  human  life?  I  refer,  of  course,  to  the 
Prophets  and  to  the  Psalms. 

1  See  the  admirable  analysis  of  the  versions  of  the  conquest  by  L.  B. 
Paton  in  the  Journal  of  Biblical  Literature,  vol.  XXXII,  pp.  1-47. 


282    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

In  saying  this  I  do  not  wish  to  underestimate  the 
force  of  movements  in  this  direction  prior  to  the 
appearance  of  the  great  Prophets  of  the  eighth  and 
seventh  centuries.  In  a  former  chapter1  I  endeav- 
oured to  set  forth  the  profound  stimulus  that  must 
have  been  exerted  by  Moses,  and  we  have  seen  that 
we  are  justified  in  attributing  to  him  a  more  spiritual 
conception  of  the  national  deity,  Yahweh,  than  was 
attached  to  the  divine  protectors  of  other  Palestinian 
groups.  True,  Yahweh  remains  for  Moses  the  God 
of  Israel,  but  a  deity  who  is  no  longer  identified 
with  any  special  personification  of  a  natural  power, 
though  retaining  traces  of  having  been  originally 
conceived  as  a  god  of  the  storm  whose  voice  is  heard 
in  the  crash  of  thunder  and  who  manifests  himself 
in  the  lightning  flash,  in  fire  and  in  smoke.  The 
Yahweh  of  Moses  is  a  deity  whose  seat  is  no  longer 
confined  to  any  particular  place,  who  moves  away 
from  Mount  Sinai  with  the  wanderings  of  his  people, 
and  who  follows  them  in  their  settlements  in  the 
agricultural  districts  and  then  adopts  the  old  sacred 
site  at  Jerusalem  as  his  main  sanctuary.2  A  deity, 
moreover,  who  is  not  to  be  worshipped  by  any  image 
is  a  national  deity  largely  in  name  only.  The  limi- 
tations to  his  scope  and  jurisdiction  become  circum- 
stantial rather  than  essential,  so  that  the  Prophets 
obeyed  a  correct  instinct  in  attaching  their  concep- 
tion of  a  universal  power  to  the  God  of  Moses.  They 
were  not  conscious  of  having  produced  a  new  point 
of  view;    they  merely  drew  corollaries  from  a  view 

1  Above,  pp.  175  seq.  2  Above,  p.  180. 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  ETHICS         283 

of  divine  government  outlined  by  Moses  himself, 
and  suggested  by  the  national  experience  during 
the  centuries  intervening  since  the  organisation  of 
the  tribes  into  a  homogeneous  group. 

We  have  also  seen  that  the  conception  of  Yahweh 
as  an  ethical  power  may  be  traced  to  the  Mosaic 
age,  and  this  despite  the  unhistorical  attempt  of 
postexilic  compilers  of  laws,  narratives,  and  tradi- 
tions to  carry  back  the  later  aspirations  to  an  ear- 
lier and,  indeed,  to  a  remote  age.  The  Decalogue, 
which  in  its  original  form  bears  the  stamp  of  Moses' 
personality,  contains  the  germ  of  the  teachings  of 
the  Prophets  that  Yahweh  is  a  God  of  justice  and 
mercy  who  demands,  as  an  absolute  condition  of  his 
favour,  obedience  to  laws  that  have  a  distinct  ethical 
flavour.  After  Moses  we  have  historical  personages 
like  Joshua,  Gideon,  Samuel,  Elijah,  and  Elisha  who, 
after  making  full  allowance  for  the  legendary  accre- 
tions to  the  accounts  of  their  careers,  stand  out 
sharply  against  the  horizon  as  leaders  who  were  im- 
bued with  a  higher  spirit;  they  are  not  heroes  who 
gain  their  leadership  by  force  of  arms,  though  heroic 
exploits  are  told  of  some  of  them,  but  by  the  ex- 
ample they  furnished  of  obedience  and  devotion  to 
ideals  which,  however  short  they  may  fall  of  later 
standards,  were  for  their  time  essentially  ethical  and 
calculated  to  bring  about  in  due  course  aspirations 
of  a  higher  character.  We  must  thus  assume  a 
steady  stream  of  influences  in  the  direction  of  the 
more  spiritual  conception  of  divine  control  of  the 
nation's  life  till  we  reach  the  time  of  an  Amos,  a 


284    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

Hosea,  and  an  Isaiah,  with  whom  the  movement 
takes  on  definite  shape. 

It  matters  little  for  our  purpose  here  whether  we 
take  up  utterances  of  the  Prophets,  which  by  com- 
mon consent  are  placed  in  the  postexilic  period — 
in  many  cases  embodied  in  the  orations  of  pre-exilic 
Prophets — or  such  as  may  be  regarded  as  pre-exilic, 
the  spirit  throughout  that  portion  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment collection  which  is  grouped  under  the  names 
of  fifteen  Prophets  is  the  same,  with  the  single  ex- 
ception perhaps  of  Jonah,  which  stands  by  itself.1 
A  number  of  the  figures  among  the  Prophets  stand 
out  as  individuals.  We  can  picture  to  ourselves 
Amos,  a  rustic,  probably  not  very  attractive  in  his 
exterior,  but  whose  words  gush  forth  with  all  the 
power  of  a  mountain  stream.  We  can  picture  the 
earlier  Isaiah  reared  in  a  great  capital,  equipped 
with  worldly  knowledge  to  reinforce  his  spiritual 
faith.  We  can  conjure  up  the  picture  of  Jeremiah, 
severe  and  impetuous,  but  for  the  most  part  the 
individualism  of  the  Prophets  sinks  into  the  back- 
ground, and  it  is  their  message  which  like  a  single 
melody  with  many  variations  rings  in  our  ears.     Of 

1  The  book  of  Jonah,  if  we  exclude  the  Psalm  inserted  in  the  second 
chapter  which  is  clearly  of  later  origin,  is  a  narrative  aimed  against  the 
tendency  of  the  Prophets  to  foretell  disasters.  The  writer  is  a  satirist 
who  wishes  to  hold  up  these  Prophets  to  ridicule  by  showing  that  they 
are  more  bent  upon  having  their  forecasts  justified,  than  upon  having 
their  warnings  heeded.  Jonah  is  introduced  as  a  type  of  the  Prophet 
who  regrets  that  Nineveh — a  disguise  for  Jerusalem — repents  of  its  deeds 
and  is  to  be  saved  from  the  threatened  destruction.  The  episode  of  the 
whale  is  in  keeping  with  the  satirical  vein  running  throughout  the  nar- 
rative. Jonah  is  thrown  overboard  as  the  cause  of  the  storm — a  sign 
of  God's  anger — but  even  the  whale  cannot  endure  the  Prophet  and 
accordingly  spews  him  out  after  three  days. 


HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  ETHICS        285 

such  little  consequence  was  the  personality  of  the 
preachers  speaking  in  the  name  of  Yahweh,  even  in 
ancient  times,  that  later  compilers  did  not  hesitate 
to  add  to  the  utterances  of  a  Prophet  exhortations 
which  seemed  to  breathe  the  same  spirit,  quite  un- 
concerned for  the  accidental  circumstance  of  author- 
ship. 

Authorship,  in  fact,  counted  for  little  in  the  an- 
cient Orient.  It  was  the  utterance  or  the  statement 
or  the  compilation  that  was  regarded  as  the  essence, 
and  it  is  not  until  we  come  to  an  advanced  literary 
period  that  the  question  of  authorship  was  a  matter 
of  any  concern.  Greek  culture  with  its  emphasis  on 
individualism  may  be  said  to  have  invented  the  idea 
of  authorship,  so  far  as  it  involves  the  individual's 
claim  to  his  mental  product.  We  have  no  specific 
word  for  author  in  ancient  Hebrew,  but  merely  a 
term  ordinarily  rendered  as  "scribe"  which  may  be 
used  indifferently  for  a  secretary  who  writes  at  dic- 
tation, for  one  who  copies  or  compiles  what  another 
has  composed,  as  well  as  for  the  one  who  indites  an 
original  composition.  A  writer  in  ancient  times 
was  merely  one  who  wrote,  whether  he  composed 
what  he  wrote  or  wrote  what  others  had  composed. 
Hence,  on  the  one  hand,  the  circumstance  of  ano- 
nymity in  ancient  literary  productions  applying  to 
Egypt,  Babylonia,  and  ancient  India  where  authors 
are  rarely  if  ever  named,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
promiscuous  and  unhistorical  assignment  of  pro- 
ductions to  some  name  that  had  become  prominent, 
whether  a  real  or  a  traditional  personage,  at  a  time 


286    HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

when  the  individualistic  character  of  literary  com- 
position had  become  more  pronounced.  Because 
Moses  comes  down  in  tradition  as  a  law-giver,  all 
laws  are  ascribed  to  him;  because  David  may  have 
written  some  martial  poetry,  all  Psalms  are  attrib- 
uted to  him;1  because  Solomon  became  the  tradi- 
tional grand  monarque  under  whom  luxury  spread 
and  who  was  noted  for  his  wisdom,  he  becomes 
the  author  of  Ecclesiastes  and  of  the  book  of 
Proverbs.2 

Another  result  of  this  method  of  literary  produc- 
tion in  the  ancient  Orient  was  that  no  book  was  pro- 
duced at  one  sitting,  as  it  were.  A  book  was  always 
a  compilation;  it  grew  from  age  to  age,  much  as  a 
story  grows  with  each  repetition.  It  received  its 
final  shape  only  when  it  had  outlived  its  popularity, 
or  when  the  tendency  of  thought  which  had  given 
rise  to  it  had  exhausted  its  vitality  and  some  new 
movement  had  set  in.  A  modern  book  begins  its 
life  after  the  author  has  finished  it  in  its  entirety 
and  it  has  left  the  press;  an  ancient  book  lives  and 
grows  as  long  as  it  is  unfinished,  and  when  it  is  fin- 
ished it  may  be  said  to  be  dead.  Composition, 
therefore,  became  essentially  compilation.  It  may 
safely  be  said  that  there  is  not  a  single  book  of  the 

1  The  headings  to  the  Psalms  are  of  course  later  than  the  compositions 
themselves,  and  a  comparison  between  the  headings  in  the  Hebrew  text 
and  in  the  Greek  version  shows  the  existence  of  varying  traditions.  It 
should  also  be  noted  that  the  Hebrew  preposition  translated  "to"  may 
mean  a  variety  of  things.  A  psalm  "to"  David  may  indicate,  indiffer- 
ently, a  psalm  ascribed  to  David,  or  about  David,  or  in  the  manner  of 
David,  or  of  the  time  of  David  as  well  as  by  David. 

2  Despite  the  fact  that  other  authors  or  collectors  of  proverbial  say- 
ings are  mentioned  in  the  book. 


HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  ETHICS        287 

Old  Testament  which  does  not  contain  portions  be- 
longing to  different  periods,  sometimes  separated 
from  one  another  by  centuries.  In  the  case  of  the 
laws,  in  fact,  almost  every  chapter  represents  a  com- 
pilation of  various  sources  or  contains  additions  from 
various  hands,  quite  apart  from  glosses  and  com- 
ments and  counter-utterances  that  any  "  scribe " 
might  add  in  copying  or  reading  a  chapter  or  sec- 
tion. A  modern  almanac,  such  as  is  published  an- 
nually by  many  newspapers,  would  form  an  analogy 
to  an  ancient  book,  in  so  far  as  it  is  generally  anon- 
ymous and  its  contents  are  a  compilation  from  vari- 
ous sources,  made  by  many  hands. 

In  accordance  with  this  method  of  book-making 
we  find  attached  to  the  book  of  the  earlier  Isaiah  a 
whole  group  of  chapters  that  are  generally  regarded 
nowadays  as  the  work  of  a  second  Isaiah.  Within 
both  groups  there  are  chapters  or  sections  within 
chapters  that  clearly  betray  the  hand  of  later  edi- 
tors,1 who  came  across  other  published  orations 
which  they  added  to  the  earlier  collection,  merely 
because  what  they  found  seemed  to  fit  in,  not  from 
the  point  of  view  of  historical  sequence,  but  from 
a  similarity  in  spirit  or  style  or  the  specific  treat- 
ment of  a  theme.  The  inserted  chapters  or  sections 
might  also  be  intentional  imitations  of  the  earlier 
Prophet  written  with  a  view  of  having  them  at- 
tached to  some  great  name.  Pseudepigraphy,  which 
involved  attaching  to  a  composition  some  name,  as 

1  See  the  introduction  to  Gray's  Commentary  on  Isaiah,  as  an  illus- 
tration of  the  complicated  process  which  produced  the  book  in  its  present 
shape. 


288    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

in  the  case  of  the  book  of  Daniel,  that  had  become 
prominent  or  a  name  that  had  become  a  type  for 
a  certain  kind  of  writing,  was  merely  another  nat- 
ural consequence  of  the  indifference  to  the  question 
of  personal  proprietorship  in  literary  production. 
In  every  one  of  the  prophetical  books,  with  the  pos- 
sible exception  of  Ezekiel,  who  seems  to  have  himself 
compiled  some  of  his  utterances,  there  are  certain 
sections  or  whole  chapters  that  are  pseudepigraph- 
ical.  But  as  a  result  of  this  sinking  of  the  individ- 
uality of  the  Prophet  in  the  composition  of  the  pro- 
phetical books  a  unity  is  given  to  this  portion  of  the 
Old  Testament  that  is  quite  remarkable.  Whether 
we  turn  to  Amos1  and  read  his  burning  words: 

"Seek  good,  and  not  evil,  that  you  may  live.  .  .  .  Hate  the 
evil,  and  love  good,  and  establish  judgment  in  the  gate.  Per- 
haps Yahweh,  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  will  be  gracious  unto  the  rem- 
nant of  Joseph.  .  .  .  Woe  unto  you  that  despise  the  day  of  Yah- 
weh! What  is  the  day  of  Yahweh  for  you?  it  is  darkness  and 
not  light.  ...  I  hate  and  I  despise  your  feasts,  and  I  will  take 
no  delight  in  your  solemn  assemblies.  .  .  .  Take  thou  away  from 
me  the  noise  of  thy  songs,  for  I  will  not  listen  to  the  melody  of 
thy  viols.  But  let  judgment  roll  down  as  waters,  and  justice 
as  a  mighty  stream;" 

or  again:2 

"  Behold  the  days  are  coming,  says  the  Lord  Yahweh,  that  I 
will  send  a  famine  in  the  land,  not  a  famine  of  bread  nor  a  thirst 
for  water,  but  of  hearing  the  words  of  Yahweh.  And  they  shall 
wander  from  sea  to  sea,  and  from  the  north  to  the  east,  and  shall 
run  to  and  fro  to  seek  the  word  of  Yahweh,  without  finding  it. 
In  that  day  shall  the  fair  virgins  and  the  young  men  faint  for 
thirst." 

1  Amos  5  :  14-24.  2  Amos  8  :  11-13. 


HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  ETHICS        289 
Or  we  turn  to  Isaiah  and  read:1 

"When  you  come  to  appear  before  me,  who  hath  required 
this  at  your  hand,  to  trample  my  courts?  Bring  no  more  sinful 
oblations,  incense  is  an  abomination  unto  me;  new-moon  and 
sabbath  and  the  calling  of  an  assembly — I  cannot  endure  iniq- 
uity with  a  solemn  meeting.  .  .  .  And  when  you  spread  forth 
your  hands  I  will  hide  mine  eyes  from  you.  When  you  make 
many  prayers  I  will  not  hear.  Your  hands  are  full  of  blood. 
Wash  you,  make  you  clean,  put  away  the  evil  of  your  doings 
from  before  mine  eyes.  Cease  to  do  evil;  learn  to  do  well,  seek 
judgment,  relieve  the  oppressed;  judge  the  fatherless,  plead  for 
the  widow." 

Or  Jeremiah:2 

"As  the  thief  is  ashamed  when  he  is  found,  so  is  the  house  of 
Israel  ashamed;  they,  their  kings,  their  princes  and  their  priests 
and  their  prophets,  saying  to  the  wood,  'Thou  art  my  father'; 
and  to  a  stone,  'Thou  hast  brought  me  forth.'  .  .  .  Wherefore 
will  you  contend  with  me?  You  all  have  transgressed  against 
me,  says  Yahweh.  In  vain  have  I  smitten  your  children;  they 
received  no  correction.  Your  own  sword  hath  devoured  your 
prophets  like  a  destroying  lion.  .  .  .  Also  on  your  skirts  is  found 
the  blood  of  the  souls  of  the  innocent  poor.  I  have  not  found  it 
at  a  place  of  breaking  in,  but  on  all  these,  and  yet  thou  sayest, 
'I  am  innocent,  surely  his  anger  is  turned  away  from  me.'  Be- 
hold, I  will  enter  into  judgment  with  thee,  because  thou  sayest, 
'I  have  not  sinned,'" 

or  again:3 

"Stand  in  the  gate  of  the  house  of  Yahweh,  and  proclaim 
there  this  word,  and  say,  Hear  ye  the  word  of  Yahweh,  all  ye  of 
Judah  that  enter  in  at  these  gates  to  worship  Yahweh.  Thus 
says  Yahweh  of  Hosts,  the  God  of  Israel :  Amend  your  ways  and 
your  doings,  and  I  will  cause  you  to  dwell  in  this  place.  Trust 
not  in  lying  words,  saying,  'The  temple  of  Yahweh,  the  temple 

1  Isaiah  i  :  12-16.  2  2  :  26-35.  3  7  :  2-7. 


290    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

of  Yahweh,  the  temple  of  Yahweh/  For  if  you  thoroughly 
amend  your  ways  and  your  doings;  if  you  thoroughly  execute 
judgment  between  a  man  and  his  neighbor,  if  you  oppress  not 
the  stranger,  the  orphan  and  the  widow,  and  shed  not  innocent 
blood  in  this  place,  neither  walk  after  other  gods  to  your  hurt, 
then  will  I  cause  you  to  dwell  in  this  place,  in  the  land  that  I 
gave  to  your  fathers  from  of  old,  forever." 

The  message  is  everywhere  the  same.  Justice 
and  righteousness  alone  can  save  the  people.  The 
Prophets  direct  their  denunciations  against  the  con- 
ventional view  held  in  reference  to  sacrifice,  to  prayer 
and  all  forms  of  worship,  not  that  they  opposed  such 
forms,  but  because  they  realised  that  the  cult  was 
a  hinderance  to  spiritual  growth,  unless  carried  on  in 
a  spirit  of  purity  and  unless  the  effect  of  the  cult 
was  seen  in  the  conduct  of  the  worshippers.  To  us 
all  this,  because  familiar,  may  seem  trite,  but  it  is 
difficult  to  overestimate  the  revolution  in  religious 
thought  brought  about  through  the  substitution  of 
such  ideals  of  justice,  righteousness,  kindness,  mercy, 
purity  of  mind,  for  the  incrustated  view  that  God 
demanded  worship,  and  that  through  offerings  and 
the  observance  of  festivals  the  Deity  could  be  reached 
and  brought  into  favourable  accord  with  human  de- 
sires and  wishes.  Small  wonder  that  the  Prophets 
aroused  the  most  violent  opposition,  that  their  ut- 
terances frequently  involved  a  risk  of  their  life,  for 
they  appeared  to  their  hearers  to  be  violent  revolu- 
tionists compared  with  which  the  anarchists  of  our 
days  seem  gentle  and  kind.  They  seemed  to  sweep 
away  the  entire  fabric  of  the  religious  experience  of 
the  past.     They  boldly  declared  that  the  most  glo- 


HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  ETHICS        291 

rious  period  of  Hebrew  history,  marked  by  an  elab- 
orate temple  organisation  with  daily  offerings  and 
constant  prayer,  was  to  be  brushed  aside  as  contrary 
to  the  will  of  Yahweh.  And  what  had  these  icono- 
clastic denunciators  of  the  fashions  of  the  day  to 
offer  in  place  of  the  popular  religion?  A  vague  or 
intangible  conception  of  a  spiritual  Power  enthroned 
in  righteousness,  and  demanding  nothing  of  His  wor- 
shippers but  "to  do  justly,  to  love  mercy,  and  to 
walk  humbly  with  thy  God"  (Micah  6:8). 


VI 

Yet  this  principle  was  to  become  the  basis  for  a 
faith  destined  to  make  its  way  throughout  the  world; 
and  with  the  new  faith  came  the  new  ethical  ideal, 
marked  by  a  complete  harmony  between  the  spirit 
and  the  outward  expression  of  the  spirit  in  conduct, 
in  the  attitude  of  mind,  and  in  the  view  to  be  taken 
of  the  cult.  As  a  single  illustration — and  there  is 
no  time  for  more — of  the  total  change  brought  about 
in  ethical  ideals  through  the  influence  of  the  Proph- 
ets, it  is  sufficient  to  refer  to  the  Prophets'  concep- 
tion of  sin  and  atonement  as  expressed  in  its  most 
perfect  form  in  many  of  the  Psalms,  and  to  contrast 
this  point  of  view  with  that  which  we  find  in  Baby- 
lonian penitential  compositions.1 

These  Babylonian  hymns  are  full  of  reverence, 
and  are  couched  in  beautiful  language,  picturing  the 

1  See  numerous  specimens  of  such  penitential  hymns  in  Jastrow,  Re- 
ligion Babyloniens  und  Assyriens,  II,  pp.  65-132. 


292    HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

contrite  heart  bowed  down  through  contemplation 
of  its  shortcomings. 

"Mine  eye  is  filled  with  tears, 
On  my  couch  I  lie  full  of  signs, 
Weeping  and  sighing  have  bowed  me  low.  .  .  . 
Many  are  my  sins  that  I  have  sinned. 

May  I  escape  this  misfortune,  may  I  be  freed  from  disease! 
Forgive  me  my  misdeeds,  let  my  appeal  reach  thee.  .  .  . 
O  my  God,  creator  of  my  being, 
Protector  of  my  life,  producer  of  my  posterity, 
My  angered  God,  may  thy  heart  be  appeased. 
My  angered  Goddess,  grant  me  grace!" 

But  what  are  the  sins  that  this  penitent  has  in 
mind?  The  answer  is  clearly  indicated  in  almost 
every  one  of  such  compositions.  The  anger  of  a 
deity  has  manifested  itself  in  some  misfortune  that 
has  come,  through  sickness,  through  the  death  of  a 
beloved  member  of  the  household,  through  failure 
of  crops,  through  destructive  storms,  or  through  a 
national  catastrophe.  The  sin  implied  throughout 
is  the  neglect  of  something  demanded  by  a  deity, 
and  we  are  rarely  left  in  doubt  as  to  the  nature  of 
these  demands.  Some  rite  has  not  been  performed, 
some  gifts  have  not  been  presented  at  the  temple, 
a  festival  has  been  neglected,  a  preference  shown  for 
some  deity  that  has  aroused  the  jealousy  of  another. 
The  Babylonian  conception  of  sin  is  well  brought 
out  in  the  frequent  allusion  to  the  unknown  char- 
acter of  the  transgression.  "My  sins  I  know  not," 
is  the  refrain  in  several  of  these  compositions,  and 
what  is  more,  the  penitent  is  at  times  in  doubt  as 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  ETHICS         293 

to  the  god  or  goddess  whom  he  has  offended,  and 
therefore  frequently  adds: 

"O  God,  whether  known  to  me  or  unknown; 
O  Goddess,  whether  known  or  unknown,  forgive  me  my  trans- 
gressions." 

Now  we  find  many  traces  of  this  same  conception 
in  portions  of  the  Old  Testament,  and  it  is  rather 
significant  that  in  the  Pentateuchal  Codes,  despite 
the  fact  that  they  show  the  influence  of  the  new 
ethical  ideal,  the  general  conception  of  sin  still  as- 
sumes that  it  can  be  wiped  out  through  some  offer- 
ing, or,  at  all  events  that  the  offering  is  essential 
to  forgiveness.  This  limitation,  for  such  it  must  be 
accounted,  is  perhaps  inherent  in  a  ritualistic  code, 
which,  after  all,  is  concerned  with  externalities;  but 
all  traces  of  such  a  conception  disappear  in  the 
Psalms. 

"The  wicked  shall  not  stand  in  the  judgment, 
No  sinners  in  the  congregation  of  the  righteous, 
For  Yahweh  knows  the  way  of  the  righteous, 
But  the  way  of  the  wicked  shall  perish."  l 

"Yahweh,  who  shall  abide  in  thy  tent, 
Who  shall  dwell  on  thy  holy  hill? 
He  who  walks  uprightly,  and  does  righteousness, 
And  speaks  truth  in  his  heart."  2 

The  psalmist  pleads, 

"Give  ear  to  my  words,  O  Yahweh, 
Consider  my  meditation.  .  .  . 
For  Thou  art  not  a  God  who  takes  pleasure  in  wickedness, 

1  Psalm  1:5.  2  Psalm  15  :  1-2. 


294    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

Evil  shall  not  sojourn  with  thee, 

The  arrogant  shall  not  stand  in  thy  sight.     Thou  hatest 

all  workers  of  iniquity. 
Thou  shalt  destroy  them  that  speak  lies."1 

Or  again, 

"O  Yahweh,  rebuke  me  not  in  thine  anger, 
Neither  chastise  me  in  thy  hot  displeasure. 
Have  mercy  upon  me,  O  Yahweh,  for  I  am  wasted  away. 

0  Yahweh,  heal  me,  for  my  bones  are  vexed.  .  .  . 

1  am  weary  with  my  groaning; 
Every  night  make  I  my  bed  to  swim; 
I  water  my  couch  with  my  tears. 

Mine  eye  is  consumed  because  of  grief.  .  .  . 
Depart  from  me,  all  ye  workers  of  iniquity; 
For  Yahweh  has  heard  the  voice  of  my  weeping."  2 

"Judge  me,  0  Yahweh,  according  to  my  righteousness,  and  ac- 
cording to  my  integrity  that  is  in  me.  .  .  . 
My  shield  is  with  God,  saving  the  upright  in  heart.     God  is  a 
righteous  judge."  3 

"Guard  me  as  the  apple  of  thine  eye 
Hide  me  under  the  shadow  of  thy  wings 
From  the  wicked  that  oppress  me, 
From  my  deadly  enemies  that  compass  me  about."  4 

"With  the  merciful  thou  wilt  shew  thyself  merciful, 
With  the  perfect  thou  wilt  shew  thyself  perfect, 
With  the  pure  thou  wilt  shew  thyself  pure, 
And  with  the  perverse  thou  wilt  shew  thyself  froward, 
For  thou  wilt  save  the  needy5  ones,  but  the  haughty  eyes 

thou  wilt  bring  down, 
For  thou  wilt  light  my  lamp;   Yahweh  my  God  will  lighten 

my  darkness."  6 

1  Psalm  5  :  1-7.  2  Psalm  6  :  1-4.  3  Psalm  7  :  9-12. 

4  Psalm  17  :  8-9. 

5  On  the  application  of  the  term  "needy,"  see  above,  p.  241. 

6  Psalm  18  :  25-28.    The  composition  though,  according  to  the  heading 
assigned  to  David  in  thanksgiving  for  his  escape  from  his  enemies  and 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  ETHICS         295 

"Make  thy  ways  known  to  me,  O  Yahweh, 
Teach  me  thy  paths, 
Lead  me  in  thy  truth,  and  teach  me; 
For  thou  art  the  God  of  my  salvation, 
On  thee  do  I  wait  all  day. 
Remember,  O  Yahweh,  thy  tender  mercies, 
For  they  have  been  ever  of  old. 

Remember  not  the  sins  of  my  youth,  nor  recall  my  transgres- 
sions. 
According  to  thy  loving  kindness,  remember  thou  me." l 

Rarely  do  we  find  any  reference  in  the  Psalms 
to  offerings  or  to  external  means  of  appeasing  the 
angered  Deity.  The  thought  throughout  is  that 
sin  can  only  be  forgiven  if  the  disposition  is  there 
to  lead  a  life  pleasing  to  a  righteous  Power.  The 
very  emphasis  on  the  justice  of  God  furnishes  the 
proof  of  the  silent  assumption,  as  a  fundamental 
principle,  that  only  the  pure  in  heart,  those  who 
have  cleansed  their  souls  from  evil  and  sinful 
thoughts,  can  venture  to  approach  the  throne  of 
mercy.  The  essence  of  the  cult  thus  becomes,  un- 
der the  influence  of  the  later  Hebrew  ethical  ideal, 
the  stimulus  towards  the  higher  life. 

I  have  referred  to  the  Pentateuchal  Codes  and 
pointed  out  that  the  ritual  still  shows  traces  of  the 
earlier  and  materialistic  conception  of  sin.  An  im- 
partial consideration  of  these  Codes  forces  on  us  the 
conclusion  that  while  they  are  full  of  a  humane 
spirit,  particularly  noticeable  in  the  book  of  Deu- 

from  Saul,  in  reality  reflects  the  political  and  religious  conditions  in  the 
Maccabean  days,  as  is  generally  agreed  by  scholars.     See  Duhm's  Com- 
mentary, p.  59.     The  language,  tinged  with  Aramaisms,  is  sufficient  to 
prove  the  late  age  of  the  composition. 
1  Psalm  25  :  5-7. 


296    HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

teronomy,  and  the  conception  of  the  Deity  is  quite 
as  sublime  as  that  found  in  the  utterances  of  the 
Prophets,  yet  the  institution  of  an  elaborate  sacri- 
ficial regulation  is  a  step  backward  from  the  relig- 
ious ideals  of  the  Prophets.  The  problem  involved 
is  an  intricate  one  and  can  only  be  touched  upon 
here.  We  must,  to  be  sure,  bear  in  mind  that  the 
Prophets  were  not  really  opposed  to  sacrifices  and 
ceremonial  observances,  but  only  to  their  abuse  and 
to  the  assumption  that  the  carrying  out  of  the 
cult  is  what  Yahweh  above  all  desired.  Some  of  the 
Prophets,  like  Jeremiah,  show,  indeed,  a  rather  fa- 
vourable attitude  towards  ceremonialism  if  combined 
with  a  pure  heart  and  in  conjunction  with  upright 
conduct.  A  large  section  in  Ezekiel  (chapters  40-47) 
is  devoted  to  a  plan  for  the  rebuilding  of  the  temple 
and  the  reorganisation  of  the  cult  with  elaborate 
ceremonialism.  For  all  that,  the  general  trend  of 
Prophetism  is  towards  worship  in  spirit  and  not 
through  external  forms.  The  emphasis  of  their  relig- 
ious philosophy  is  on  conduct  and  not  on  the  cult 
— certainly  not  on  ceremonialism  as  a  means  of 
approaching  Yahweh  and  of  securing  his  favour. 
We  must  remember  also  that  these  sacrificial  regu- 
lations which  assume  such  huge  proportions  in  the 
latest  of  the  compiled  codes,  known  as  the  Priestly 
Code,  were  intended  to  serve  a  practical  end;  namely, 
to  constitute  a  source  of  income  for  the  large  priestly 
organisation  needed  in  a  large  centre  like  Jerusalem. 
A  revolution  was  effected  through  the  Deuteronomic 
Code   that    was    quite    in    keeping   with   the  spirit 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  ETHICS        297 

of  the  Prophets,  and  which  aimed  at  nothing  less 
than  to  abolish  the  numerous  sanctuaries  scattered 
throughout  the  country  in  favour  of  a  single  sanc- 
tuary for  the  legitimate  cult  in  Jerusalem.1  That  was 
a  bold  step  indeed,  which  was  not  actually  carried 
out  until  the  postexilic  period.  It  was  a  great  gain 
thus  to  demolish  at  one  blow  the  rites  observed  in 
the  sanctuaries  outside  of  Jerusalem,  and  in  which, 
we  may  be  sure,  many  Canaanitish  practices  were 
maintained  by  the  sheer  force  of  tradition.  We  have 
seen,  however,  that  this  worship  of  Yahweh  which 
extended  throughout  the  country,  though  carried 
on  at  sites  of  original  Baal  worship,  was  an  impor- 
tant factor  in  leading  to  the  belief  that  Yahweh  was 
not,  like  other  gods,  confined  to  one  centre.  It  was 
therefore  from  this  point  of  view  a  step  back  to  ear- 
lier conditions  to  concentrate  the  cult  in  a  single 
sacred  site.  Practical  necessity,  on  the  other  hand, 
demanded  that  there  should  be  a  cult  carried  on 
by  a  priestly  organisation  and  that  such  a  central 
organisation,  recognised  as  legitimate,  should  be 
supported  by  the  populace.  The  compilers  of  the 
Priestly  Code,  attaching  themselves,  so  far  as  pos- 
sible, to  existing  practices  and  to  deeply  ingrained 
forms  of  worship,  introduced  merely  such  modifica- 
tions in  the  older  sacrificial  regulations  as  were  nec- 

1  This  is  emphasised  over  and  over  again  in  Deuteronomy  and  included 
the  order  to  destroy  all  other  sanctuaries,  e.  g.,  Deut.  12  :  1-5,  13-14; 
14  :  25;  15  :  20;  16  :  2,  and  so  in  almost  every  chapter  of  the  Code. 
Gressmann,  in  his  recent  work,  Mose  und  seine  Zeit,  p.  466,  shows  that 
Deuteronomy  in  carrying  the  centralisation  idea  back  to  Moses  followed 
a  correct  instinct,  for  in  the  wilderness,  and  during  the  nomadic  period 
of  the  national  life,  there  was  only  one  sanctuary,  though  naturally  only 
because  there  was  no  need  for  any  other.  See  further  on  this  point, 
above,  pp.  181  seq. 


298    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

essary  to  adapt  them  to  the  new  conditions,  in  the 
belief  perhaps  that  the  ethical  transformation  of  the 
idea  of  God,  which  meanwhile  had  been  accom- 
plished, was  a  sufficient  guarantee  against  a  return 
to  the  former  materialistic  view  of  the  divine  wor- 
ship as  a  means  to  a  more  or  less  selfish  end.  The 
emphasis  placed  throughout  all  the  Pentateuchal 
Codes  upon  the  conception  of  Yahweh  as  a  God 
who  rejoices  the  heart,  who  is  kind  and  merciful  to 
those  who  act  justly,  but  who  is  unrelenting  to 
evil-doers,  "visiting  the  iniquity  of  the  fathers  upon 
the  children  to  the  third  and  fourth  generation" — 
the  emphasis  placed  upon  this  conception  of  Yahweh 
should  indeed  have  been  considered  a  sufficient  pro- 
tection against  mistaking  the  form  for  the  substance, 
against  attaching  an  undue  importance  to  sacrificial 
and  other  rites  as  a  means  of  approaching  the  throne 
of  grace.  The  danger,  however,  was  not  averted, 
and  we  have  abundant  evidence  that  during  the 
two  or  three  centuries  preceding  the  final  destruc- 
tion of  the  little  that  was  left  of  the  national  inde- 
pendence of  the  Jews,  the  abuse  of  worship,  against 
which  the  Prophets  voiced  their  strong  protest,  had 
again  crept  in.  There  was,  to  be  sure,  no  return 
to  such  conditions  as  prevailed  in  the  pre-exilic 
period.  For  one  thing,  the  Jews — as  we  should  de- 
nominate the  people  from  this  time  on  rather  than 
as  Hebrews,  which  designation  should  be  limited  to 
the  pre-exilic  period — were  scattered  not  only  over 
Palestine  but  also  outside  of  the  national  home. 
Only  a  small  proportion  of  the  descendants  of  those 
who  after  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem  had  settled 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  ETHICS         299 

in  Babylonia  ever  returned  to  their  native  country. 
Extensive  Jewish  colonies  and  communities  had 
sprung  up  in  various  parts  of  Egypt,  around  Ele- 
phantine in  the  south1  and  around  Alexandria  in 
the  north.  To  these,  as  to  all  Jews  not  settled  in 
Jerusalem,  the  central  sanctuary  became  a  symbol 
rather  than  a  reality,  a  symbol  of  the  spiritual  bond 
uniting  Jews  everywhere,  but  hardly  an  effective 
force  in  moulding  the  religious  life  of  the  people. 
The  sacrificial  observances  at  the  temple  in  Jeru- 
salem did  not  assume  the  importance  and  promi- 
nence that  was  hoped  for  by  the  compilers  of  the 
Priestly  Code;  and  the  obligation  imposed  on  every 
Jew  to  come  with  his  family  to  Jerusalem  three 
times  a  year  must  necessarily  have  remained  a  dead 
letter  to  the  vast  majority.  At  the  old  harvest  fes- 
tival in  the  fall,  the  pilgrimage  or  Hag,2  as  it  was 
called,  there  appears  to  have  been  a  considerable 
gathering  of  pious  worshippers  in  Jerusalem  from 
various  parts  of  Palestine,  but  the  number  that  came 
from  beyond  the  borders  must  at  all  times  have  been 
small.  Such  annual  gatherings  served  to  keep  alive 
the  sense  of  unity  and  no  doubt  fostered  the  national 
aspirations,  but  their  influence  hardly  extended  be- 
yond this  point.     The  Samaritan  schism,3  which  had 

1  See  Eduard  Meyer,  Der  Papyrusfund  von  Elephantine  (Leipzig,  1912), 
— an  admirable  summary  and  discussion  of  the  recent  remarkable  discov- 
eries of  papyri  dealing  with  the  affairs  of  the  Jewish  colony  at  Elephan- 
tine. 

2  Identical  with  the  Arabic  Hadj,  the  term  for  the  pilgrimage  to  Mecca. 

3  See  James  A.  Montgomery's  work  on  The  Samaritans,  chapters  III-V, 
for  an  account  of  the  growth  of  the  separation  between  Jews  and  Samari- 
tans in  the  postexilic  period. 


300    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

brought  about  a  sharp  separation  between  the  cults 
of  Jerusalem  and  Samaria,  was  a  further  feature  in 
checking  the  influence  of  the  Jerusalem  priesthood. 
The  attachment  of  the  Jews  of  Egypt  to  the  cen- 
tral sanctuary  was  also  lessened  by  the  existence  of 
an  independent  "Yahweh"  temple  in  Elephantine; 
and  there  may  have  been  such  shrines  at  other 
places.  It  was  not  therefore  the  sacrificial  minu- 
tiae observed  at  the  temple  in  Jerusalem  that  con- 
stituted any  serious  menace  to  the  growth  of  the 
genuine  ethical  spirit  independent  of  ceremonialism. 
The  movement  towards  the  regulation  of  the  details 
of  life  by  ceremonial  observances  began,  curiously 
enough,  in  lay  circles  quite  outside  of  priestly  influ- 
ences. The  most  characteristic  feature  of  post- 
exilic  Judaism  is  the  rise  of  combinations  of  laymen 
for  the  study  of  the  law.  The  synagogue  appears 
by  the  side  of  the  temple1  and  becomes  a  much  more 
potent  force  than  the  official  sanctuary  in  the  devel- 
opment of  the  religious  life  of  the  people.  Worship 
in  the  synagogues  makes  its  start  as  an  appendix 
to  the  study  of  the  law  and  as  a  further  means  of 
spreading  religious  teachings.  It  is  in  connection 
with  the  synagogue  that  we  find  the  tendency  mak- 
ing itself  felt  of  unduly  emphasising  the  details  of 
ceremonial  regulations.  Pharisaism  is  the  outcome 
of  this  tendency,  but  we  would  be  doing  Pharisa- 
ism an  injustice  to  assume  that  it  ever  went  so  far 
as  to  utterly  neglect  the  spirit  in  favour  of  the  let- 

1  See  Schurer's  History  of  the  Jewish  People  in  the  Time  of  Jesus  Christy 

II,  2,  p.  S27. 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  ETHICS         301 

ter.  The  preponderating  emphasis  on  observances 
checked  the  complete  sway  of  the  new  ethical  ideals, 
but,  on  the  other  hand,  so  thorough  had  been  the 
change  wrought  through  the  gradual  spread  of  Pro- 
phetical Judaism  that  even  the  worship  of  the  letter 
could  not  extinguish  the  spirit.  Despite  the  strong 
nationalistic  hopes  and  aspirations  of  Pharisaism, 
hopes  which  it  shared  with  the  other  Jewish  sects 
of  the  time,  the  thought  of  Jehovah  as  the  universal 
power  predominated  over  the  conviction — a  legacy 
of  the  former  national  conception — that  Jehovah 
had  a  special  concern  for  the  people  chosen  by  him 
to  proclaim  his  universal  reign.  No  doubt  the  av- 
erage Jew,  during  the  few  centuries  preceding  the 
advent  of  Christianity  when  he  thought  of  Jehovah, 
was  still  under  the  influence  of  the  time  when  Yah- 
weh  was  conceived  as  limited  in  his  jurisdiction  to 
a  single  group.  But  this  influence  did  not  extend 
further  than  to  strengthen  the  hope  of  the  restora- 
tion of  national  independence.  Jehovah  was  at  one 
and  the  same  time  the  universal  father  of  mankind, 
and  the  God  of  the  Hebrew  people,  the  God  of  their 
fathers.  The  two  conceptions  blended  into  each 
other  and  gave  rise  to  a  deep  religious  spirit,  which 
actuated  the  Pharisees  quite  as  much  as  the  repre- 
sentatives of  religious  movements  in  Judaism  away 
from  legalism.  Nor  was  there  any  danger  of  any 
real  conflict  between  these  two  conceptions.  The 
people  needed  as  a  supplement  to  the  idea  of  a  uni- 
versal power  the  assurance  that  Jehovah  was  still 
specially  concerned  with  those  who  had  chosen  Him 


302    HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

and  who,  therefore,  by  virtue  of  a  mutual  relation- 
ship, regarded  themselves  also  as  specially  chosen. 
This  need  was  supplied  by  the  consciousness  of  an 
identity  of  the  universal  Jehovah  with  the  old  na- 
tional Yahweh.  But  even  what  traces  still  remained 
of  the  national  conception  of  the  Deity  had  become 
so  entirely  synonymous  with  the  Power  making  for 
justice  and  righteousness  as  to  counteract  the  tend- 
ency towards  any  artificiality  of  the  religious  life 
through  the  growing  complications  of  minute  cere- 
monialism. Besides,  the  spirit  of  this  ceremonial- 
ism, even  though  as  a  system  it  makes  no  appeal 
to  our  sympathies,  was  thoroughly  ethical.  I  hold 
no  brief  for  legalism  in  religion,  but  an  impartial 
survey  of  Rabbinical  Judaism  demands  the  recogni- 
tion that  the  ritual,  particularly  in  the  course  of  its 
transference  from  the  temple  to  the  lay  place  of 
assembly,  the  synagogue,  became  more  and  more 
an  expression  of  the  attitude  of  the  individual  to- 
wards a  Power  conceived  in  spiritual  terms,  and  one 
whose  chief  concern  is  for  the  establishment  of  a 
reign  of  love,  justice,  and  righteousness  in  the  world. 
The  Jewish  prayer-book,  which  begins  to  make  its 
appearance  at  this  time — a  direct  outcome  of  the 
synagogue  and  not  of  the  temple — voices  this  con- 
ception on  every  page.  The  universality  of  the 
divine  sway  is  emphasised,  and  the  unity  of  the 
human  race  held  out  as  the  ultimate  goal  of  man- 
kind. A  future  is  foreshadowed  in  which,  to  be 
sure,  national  aspirations  still  play  a  part,  but  in 
which  they  are  completely  overshadowed  by  the  pic- 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  ETHICS         303 

ture  of  all  nations  moving  towards  Jerusalem  as  the 
spiritual  centre  to  usher  in  the  Messianic  age,  por- 
trayed as  the  triumph  of  love  and  justice  in  the 
world. 

VII 

Neither  therefore  on  the  side  of  ethics,  nor  in 
the  conception  of  divine  government  as  set  up  by 
the  Prophets,  did  the  later  legalistic  aspects  of  post- 
exilic  Judaism  seriously  interfere  with  the  further 
development  of  religious  idealism  or  of  ethical  prac- 
tices. Of  more  serious  moment  was  the  spirit  of 
scepticism  that  had  crept  in  and  made  considerable 
headway  after  the  Exile,  and  which  finds  an  expres- 
sion in  such  productions  as  the  books  of  Job  and 
Ecclesiastes.  The  scepticism,  particularly  as  set 
forth  in  Ecclesiastes,  was  a  matter  of  deep  concern, 
because  the  doubt  as  to  the  existence  of  a  divine 
rule  of  justice  in  the  world  involved  as  a  corollary 
a  return  to  the  materialistic  conception  of  life.  The 
book  of  Job,  as  we  have  seen,1  is  concerned  prima- 
rily with  a  purely  philosophical  discussion  of  the 
problem  involved  in  assuming  at  the  head  of  the 
universe  a  Power  ruling  in  justice,  contrasted  with 
the  actual  state  of  affairs  in  this  world,  in  which 
injustice  and  wickedness  flourish,  while  the  good 
and  pious  languish  and  receive  punishment  that  be- 
longs to  the  wicked.  The  conclusion  that  the  ideal 
life  is  not  worth  living  is  suggested  but  not  dis- 
tinctly drawn.     Job   contents   himself  with   giving 

1  Above,  pp.  233  seq. 


304    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

expression  to  his  doubts  as  to  a  just  Providence,  and 
to  pouring  forth  his  pathetic  complaints  of  the  un- 
fortunate condition  in  which  he  had  been  placed,  ap- 
parently without  reason.  The  book  of  Ecclesiastes, 
on  the  other  hand,  boldly  takes  the  step  of  suggest- 
ing that  the  one  thing  to  do  in  a  world  constituted 
as  this  one  is,  is  to  eat,  drink,  and  be  merry,  and 
to  endeavour  to  drive  away  the  thought  of  "for 
to-morrow  we  die."  The  sceptical  basis,  however,  in 
Ecclesiastes  is  of  the  same  order  as  in  Job,  involv- 
ing a  doubt  as  to  the  real  working  of  justice  and 
righteousness  in  the  world.  Both  productions  must 
be  placed  in  the  postexilic  period,  and  it  is  safe 
to  take  as  the  time  limit  of  their  composition  in 
their  present  definite  form  the  year  400  B.  C,  though 
it  is  likely,  as  pointed  out,1  that  Ecclesiastes  is  to 
be  placed  almost  two  centuries  later.  This  scepti- 
cism was  perfectly  natural,  and  it  is  not  necessary 
to  assume  outside  influences  as  bringing  it  about, 
though  contact  with  Greek  philosophic  thought,  so 
predominatingly  sceptical,  must  have  been  a  feature 
in  accentuating  it.  The  difficulties  that  the  He- 
brews encountered  in  their  political  and  social  life 
after  the  partial  reconstruction  of  the  Jewish 
commonwealth  necessarily  had  a  depressing  effect. 
There  were  no  indications  that  a  time  was  approach- 
ing when  power  and  strength  would  be  checked  in 
carrying  out  their  purpose.  There  was  suffering  on 
all  sides,  there  was  injustice  everywhere.  The  weak 
were  being  crushed  by  the  strong,  the  poor  were  be- 

1  Above,  p.  236. 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN   ETHICS         305 

ing  trampled  upon.  Priests  appeared  to  be  worldly 
and  rulers  tyrannical.  The  books  of  Job  and  Ec- 
clesiastes  must  therefore  be  taken  as  an  expression 
of  the  spirit  of  pessimism  that  had  entered  into  the 
minds  of  many  of  the  thoughtful  ones  among  the 
people.  These  productions  represent  unquestion- 
ably a  counter-current  against  the  religious  ideals, 
and  in  so  far  as  they  involve  a  reaction  against 
the  sovereignty  of  ethics  in  the  life  of  the  individ- 
ual and  favour  a  materialistic  aspect  of  human 
endeavour,  they  are  symptomatic  of  a  check  en- 
countered by  postexilic  Judaism  in  its  endeavour 
to  realise  the  hopes  of  the  leaders  for  the  establish- 
ment of  a  religion  based  on  the  Prophets'  concep- 
tion of  a  divine  government  of  justice  and  mercy. 

The  corrective  to  a  sceptical  or  materialistic  tend- 
ency was,  however,  found  in  the  growing  strength 
of  the  conviction  that  man,  limited  in  his  intellec- 
tual powers  and  circumscribed  even  in  his  will,  had 
to  resign  himself  to  a  realisation  that  it  was  not 
given  to  him  to  penetrate  into  the  ways  of  God. 
The  deficiencies  of  the  human  intellect  were  frankly 
recognised,  and  the  conclusion  drawn  that  the  finite 
mind  could  not  be  expected  to  understand  the  way 
in  which  the  Infinite — infinite  in  spirit  as  well  as  in 
power — carries  out  His  divine  purpose  in  the  world. 
Many  of  the  Psalms  reflect  this  answer  given  to  those 
who  voiced  their  scepticism  as  to  the  reality  of  the 
just  government  of  the  universe.  The  psalmist 
complains  of  his  bitter  fate  in  terms  frequently  as 
pathetic  as  those  found  in  the  book  of  Job,  but,  un- 


306    HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

like  Job,  he  almost  invariably  adds  to  his  complaint 
his  trust  that  in  the  long  run,  and  on  the  whole, 
justice  will  triumph,  and  the  Lord  will  save  the 
pious. 

"Yahweh  is  my  rock,  my  fortress  and  my  defender; 
My  God,  my  strong  rock,  in  him  will  I  trust."  1 


"My  God,  my  God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me? 
Why  so  far  from  helping  me,  from  the  words  of  my  complain- 
ing? 
My  God,  I  cry  in  the  daytime,  but  thou  hearest  not; 
And  in  the  night  season  I  am  not  silent. 
But  thou  dwellest  in  holiness, 
The  praises  of  Israel  are  (for  thee).2 

Our  fathers  trusted  in  thee. 

They  trusted,  and  thou  didst  deliver  them. 

They  trusted  in  thee  and  were  not  ashamed.,,  3 

and,  finest  of  all,  in  the  Twenty-third  Psalm: 

"Yahweh  is  my  shepherd.  ...  He  leadeth  me  in  the  paths 
of  righteousness  for  his  name's  sake.  ...  I  will  fear  no  evil  for 
thou  art  with  me  .  .  .  Thy  rod  and  thy  staff,  they  comfort 
me.  .  .  . 

There  is  a  sense  in  which  this  sublime  and  solemn 
trust  may  be  looked  upon  as  the  last  word  of  the 
religious  and  ethical  ideals  of  the  Hebrews. 

It  is  not  necessary  for  our  purposes  to  enter  fur- 
ther into  the  details  of  Hebrew  ethics  resulting  from 
the  teachings  of  the  Prophets.     These  teachings — 

1  Psalm  1 8  :  2-3. 

2 1  follow  Duhm's  reading,  favoured  by  the  Greek  version. 
3  Psalm   22  :  2-6.     The  Psalm  has  the  earmarks  of  the  Maccabean 
period. 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN   ETHICS         307 

let  me  emphasise  the  point  once  more — were  not 
seriously  affected  by  the  unfolding  of  a  legalistic 
aspect  of  the  religious  life  in  the  centuries  preceding 
the  rise  of  Christianity,  even  though  we  must  regard 
this  movement,  which  culminates  in  Talmudic  Juda- 
ism, as  a  reaction  from  Prophetical  Judaism.  It  is 
sufficient  in  a  general  survey  of  Hebrew  and  Baby- 
lonian ethics  to  indicate  the  divergent  lines  of  devel- 
opment taken  by  the  course  of  ethics  in  the  two 
civilisations  and  which  may  be  briefly  summed  up 
in  the  statement  that  Babylonian  and  Assyrian 
ethics,  despite  its  many  notable  aspects,  failed  to 
find  the  corrective  to  the  materialistic  conception 
of  life  which  is  an  unavoidable  outcome  of  what 
we  ordinarily  regard  as  the  progress  of  civilisation. 
Such  progress  manifests  itself  in  an  advance  in  the 
arts,  in  the  growth  of  commerce,  in  a  more  compli- 
cated political  organisation,  and  in  the  elaboration 
of  the  religious  life,  and  it  is  accompanied  by  in- 
creasing wealth  and  by  more  luxurious  modes  of  life. 
The  danger  inherent,  therefore,  in  any  high  form  of 
culture  is  an  undue  emphasis  on  material  advantages 
which,  if  unchecked,  leads  to  effeminacy  and  ulti- 
mate degeneration.  Babylonian  and  Assyrian  ethics 
failed  to  check  this  tendency.  The  advice  given  to 
the  favourite  hero,  Gilgamesh,  "to  eat,  drink,  and 
be  merry"1  strikes  a  characteristic  note,  and  there 
are  no  indications  of  a  counter-movement  such  as 
we  meet  with  in  Hebrew  literature,  which  by  means 
of    interpolations    and    counter-comments    actually 

1  Above,  p.  278. 


308    HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

succeeded  in  converting  the  parallel  teachings  of 
Ecclesiastes  into  an  argument  for  the  vanity  of 
the  materialistic  conception  of  life.1  Prophetical 
Judaism  discovered  the  formula  that  acted  as  the 
antitoxin  to  both  the  materialistic  and  sceptical  in- 
fection of  advancing  civilisation.  That  formula  in- 
volved the  setting  up  of  holiness  and  purity  as  the 
aim  of  life  in  keeping  with  the  ethical  conception 
of  a  Deity  of  universal  scope,  Himself  enthroned  in 
holiness  and  purity,  but  whose  mysterious  workings 
were  beyond  the  reach  of  the  finite  human  under- 
standing. The  solution,  to  be  sure,  involved  diffi- 
culties— difficulties  which  are  keenly  felt  still  in  our 
own  days — but  the  removal  of  all  materialistic  as- 
pects from  the  conception  of  divine  government  of 
the  universe,  and  the  persistent  maintenance  of  high 
ethical  aims  led  to  the  strengthening  of  the  element 
of  faith — faith  in  the  unseen,  faith  in  the  unknow- 
able, faith  in  the  midst  of  the  mysteries  of  life. 


VIII 

There  is,  however,  another  side  of  the  picture  on 
which,  before  proceeding  to  the  conclusion,  we  must 
briefly  touch.  As  a  result  of  the  inevitable  conflict 
between  the  materialistic  currents  of  advancing  civ- 

1  The  book  of  Ecclesiastes,  so  frankly  sceptical  and  cynical  as  we  have 
seen  (above,  p.  235),  is  full  of  interpolations  intended  to  soften  down  the 
extreme  utterances  of  the  preacher  or  to  furnish  the  answer  to  his  argu- 
ments. Without  these  interpolations,  on  which  Barton's  Commentary 
on  Ecclesiastes,  pp.  43-46,  may  be  consulted,  the  compilation  would  never 
have  been  admitted  into  the  canon;  even  with  them  the  admission 
was  effected  only  after  a  prolonged  struggle.     See  Barton,  /.  c,  pp.  2-7. 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN   ETHICS         309 

ilisation  and  the  maintenance  of  ethical  and  religious 
ideals,   we   find   throughout  the   pages   of  the  Old 
Testament — saturated   as  they  are  with  the  spirit 
of  the  Prophets  that  led,  as  we  have  seen,  to  the 
more   or   less   complete  transformation   of  ancient 
traditions  and  to  a  recasting  of  the  legendary  lore, 
of  the  history  and  the  laws  of  the  people  to  conform 
to  this  spirit — an  unfavourable  attitude  towards  what 
we,  from  our  point  of  view,  would  regard  as  prog- 
ress.   The  disposition  is  to  give  the  preference  to  the 
simple  over  the  more  complicated  ways  of  existence, 
leading  logically  to  an  opposition  to  more  advanced 
forms  of  political,  social,  and  religious  organisation. 
This  tendency  crops  out  in  the  tales  of  Genesis, 
embodying,  as  we  have  seen,  traces  of  early  myths 
and  of  popular  traditions.     In  the  story  of  Cain  and 
Abel  the  preference  is  given  to  Abel,  the  shepherd, 
as  against  Cain,  the  tiller  of  the  soil,  who  becomes 
in  the  course  of  tradition  also  the  builder  of  cities.1 
The  lower  form  of  culture  is  thus  given  the  prefer- 
ence over  the  higher  one.      In  keeping  with  this 
the    Patriarchs    are    represented    as   shepherds.     A 
necessary  concession  to  later  conditions  is  made  in 
the  Pentateuchal  Codes  which  assume  as  the  ordi- 
nary mode  of  life  that  of  the  agriculturist,  but  agri- 
culture in  these  codes  is  contrasted  with  commerce, 
the  higher  stage,  and,  as  we  have  seen,  commerce  is 
looked  upon  askance.2     Again,  therefore,  the  lower 
form  is  preferred  to  the  higher.     The  political  ideal 
of  the   Pentateuchal  Codes   is   a   loose   and   simple 

1  Gen.  4:17.  2  Above,  p.  167. 


310    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

organisation  of  the  tribes;  it  frowns  upon  a  king- 
dom as  a  departure  from  ancient  ideals,  and  we 
need  only  read  the  description,  in  a  late  addition  to 
Deuteronomy,  of  what  kings  may  be  expected  to  do 
to  their  subjects1  to  realise  the  ingrained  opposition 
against  taking  the  necessary  step  of  a  higher  form  of 
tribal  organisation.  The  bitter  speech  placed  in  the 
mouth  of  Samuel,2  denouncing  the  desire  of  the  peo- 
ple for  a  king  as  disloyalty  to  Yahweh,  shows  how 
pronounced  the  tendency  was  against  the  higher 
form  of  political  life.  The  ideal  sanctuary  for  the 
worship  of  Yahweh  in  the  codes  is  the  tabernacle, 
and  a  protest  is  entered  against  a  structure  in  which 
iron  is  used,  or  an  altar  of  hewn  steps3  as  against  the 
primitive  rough  stone,4  such  as  Jacob  set  up  at  Bethel. 
The  Prophets  voice  this  same  tendency  in  their 
denunciation  of  wealth,  extension  of  dominion,  and 
luxury.  The  ideal  is  essentially  that  of  the  simple 
life — converting  swords  into  ploughshares,  and  spears 
into  pruning-hooks,  each  one  dwelling  peacefully 
under  the  shade  of  his  vine  and  his  fig-tree.5  There 
is,  to  be  sure,  also  the  counter-tendency  which  led 
to  glorifying  David  and  Solomon  as  the  ideal  kings 
and  to  making  them  the  authors  of  some  of  the  finest 
portions  of  the  Old  Testament  writings,  but  this  is 
the  work  of  a  later  age,  in  which  other  factors  are 
involved,  and  one  need  only  read  the  narratives 
in  which  the  exploits  of  these  national  heroes  are 
recounted   to  see  the  traces  of  the  earlier  opposi- 

1  Deut.  17:  14-20.         2 1  Sam.  8  :  7-18.  3  Ex.  20  :  25. 

4  Gen.  28  :  18.  6  Micah  4  :  3-4. 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  ETHICS        311 

tion  to  them.  Such  stones  as  David's  relations  to 
Bathsheba1  and  Solomon's  defection  from  Yahweh2 
would  never  have  been  recounted  had  there  not 
existed  an  element  in  the  populace  which  looked 
with  disfavour  upon  the  kingdom,  and  whose  senti- 
ments are  voiced  in  tales  that  were  intended  to  show 
the  disastrous  consequences  of  exchanging  the  simple 
life  of  the  loose  tribal  organisation  for  the  grandeur 
of  a  royal  court  and  the  other  changes  that  came 
in  the  wake  of  the  higher  culture,  marked  by  the 
development  of  the  country  into  a  military  power. 
The  Prophet  Jeremiah3  furnishes  the  direct  proof 
of  the  existence  even  in  his  days  of  a  group  within 
the  people,  known  as  the  Rechabites,  who,  in  their 
protest  against  advancing  culture,  continued  to  live 
in  tents,  and  not  in  houses,  who  even  looked  askance 
upon  the  agricultural  stage,  and  remained  faithful 
to  the  nomadic  ideal.  This  rather  austere  attitude 
towards  life  had  its  natural  outcome  in  a  form  of 
conservatism  that  is  a  characteristic  feature  of  the 
Prophets — both  those  of  the  pre-exilic  and  those  of 
the  postexilic  period — which  shows  itself  not  only 
in  their  disapproval  of  the  ambition  of  the  Hebrews 
to  emulate  the  example  of  the  flourishing  civilisations 
about  them — Assyria,  Babylonia,  and  Egypt,  and 
subsequently  Greek  culture — but  in  the  emphatic 
manner  in  which  they  hold  up  the  time  of  the  tradi- 
tional sojourn  in  the  wilderness,  at  the  very  begin- 
ning of  the  national  life,  as  the  ideal  period  when 
Yahweh's    relations    to    his    people    were    closest. 

1  II  Sam.  II.  2 1  Kings  ii.  3  Chapter  35. 


312    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

That  period  is  pictured  as  the  happy  wooing-time, 
when  Yahweh  found  Israel  and  made  her  his  be- 
loved bride,  the  golden  age  to  a  return  of  which 
the  Prophets  longingly  looked  forward  as  the  only 
salvation  of  the  nation.  Hence  the  projection  of 
the  entire  religious  organisation,  including  the  secu- 
lar laws  and  the  religious  rites  into  the  remote  past, 
back  to  the  period  when  Moses  through  direct  con- 
verse with  Yahweh  gave  his  people  the  instructions 
which  were  to  be  their  guidance  for  all  times.  The 
traditional  assignment  of  the  entire  Pentateuch  to 
Moses,  which  modern  scholarship  has  shown  to  be 
untenable,  is  thus  of  value  as  representing  the  logical 
outcome  of  Prophetism.  It  would  never  have  arisen 
had  not  the  Prophets  held  up  the  Mosaic  period  as 
the  golden  age  of  the  simplicity  of  life,  free  from 
worldly  ambitions,  the  age  of  naive,  unquestioning 
faith  in  Yahweh,  and  of  a  just  valuation  of  the  aims 
of  existence. 

This  feature  of  Hebrew  ethics,  thus  impressed 
upon  it  through  the  direct  influence  of  the  Proph- 
ets, leads,  as  I  have  suggested,  to  a  serious  outlook 
on  life  that  is  not  without  its  forbidding  aspect. 
The  attitude  became  a  resisting  force,  a  force  sus- 
picious of  progress  for  fear  of  the  evils  that  may  be 
engendered,  a  force  that  prefers  the  old  to  the  new, 
that  is  disposed  to  place  life  at  its  best  in  the  past, 
to  idealise  that  past,  and  seek  in  it  the  guidance 
for  the  present.  This  austerity  clung  to  Judaism 
throughout  the  succeeding  ages.  It  coloured  its 
ideals  and  hopes  and  gave  to  Rabbinical  Judaism 


HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  ETHICS        313 

that  ultraconservative  character  which  necessarily 
led  to  an  overthrow  of  Talmudical  authority  when 
the  Jews,  upon  being  politically  rehabilitated,  began 
to  commingle  with  their  fellows  and  to  enter  actively 
into  a  world  organised  on  a  totally  different  basis, 
and  whose  watchword  was  "  progress. "  The  aus- 
tere side  of  the  ethics  of  the  Prophets  gave  to  life 
in  general  among  the  Jews  down  to  the  threshold 
of  modern  days  a  somewhat  sombre  aspect  that  tem- 
pered even  the  festive  occasions — an  aspect  that  was 
accentuated  by  the  distressing  experiences,  the  hard- 
ship, and  persecutions  through  which  the  adherents 
of  Judaism  were  destined  to  pass;  but  it  also  gave 
the  people  the  strength  to  face  these  experiences; 
it  hardened  their  moral  fibre,  it  made  them  capable 
of  withstanding  the  allurements  of  ease  and  luxury, 
and  was  the  chief  factor  in  developing  among  the 
Jews  those  virtues  of  home  life  for  which  they  be- 
came noted,  and  which  flourish  best  under  a  stern 
conviction  of  duty.  In  short,  the  austere  aspects 
of  Hebrew  ethics,  while  they  diminished  the  sense 
of  the  pure  joie  de  vivre,  without  by  any  means  sup- 
pressing it  entirely,  developed  among  the  people 
the  sense  of  the  seriousness  of  life  which  is  the  basic 
condition  of  firm  attachment  to  ideals. 


IX 

The  final  point  to  which  we  are  led  in  tracing  the 
unfolding  of  religious  thought  and  of  the  aim  of  life 
among  the  Hebrews,  and  which  carried  them  so  far 


314    HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

away  from  Babylonian  views  and  traditions,  deals 
with  the  rise  of  a  new  religion  issuing  out  of  the  old 
one.  With  the  appearance  of  Christianity  a  new 
factor  makes  itself  felt  in  the  ancient  world.  Jesus 
represents  the  complete  break  between  nationalism 
and  religious  aspiration.  The  break,  to  be  sure,  was 
an  inevitable  and  logical  consequence  of  the  posi- 
tion taken  by  the  Hebrew  Prophets,  but  it  never 
practically  came  about  until  the  days  of  Jesus,  when 
the  conflicting  currents  of  thought  in  Palestine 
reached  their  crisis.  The  ethics  of  Jesus  as  embod- 
ied in  the  sayings  and  parables  scattered  through- 
out the  Gospels  attach  themselves  directly  to  the 
spirit  of  the  Prophets  and  the  Psalms.  He  opposes 
the  tendency  to  make  legalistic  requirements  the 
test  of  the  religious  life.  He  finds  the  corrective  to 
the  sufferings,  misfortunes,  and  evil  in  the  world  in 
a  sublime  feeling  of  trust,  of  the  same  order  as  that 
which  we  encountered  in  the  Psalms,  and  it  is  not 
accidental  that  the  last  words  attributed  to  him 
should  have  been  a  quotation  from  a  Psalm  that 
describes  the  man  of  sorrows  and  of  suffering.  In 
all  this  Jesus  is  simply  the  successor  of  the  Proph- 
ets and  the  psalmists.  The  point  of  departure  in 
his  ethics  from  older  ideals  is  the  complete  divorce 
from  a  nationalistic  conception  of  divine  govern- 
ment in  practice  as  well  as  in  theory.  That,  to  my 
mind,  is  the  real  significance  of  the  period  ushered 
in  through  him  and  his  followers.  The  sayings 
of  Jesus,  forming  the  basis  of  the  gospel  narra- 
tives— the  core  around  which  the  story  of  Jesus  is 


HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  ETHICS        315 

constructed — also  reveal  to  us  his  real  personality, 
the  true  bent  of  his  mind  and  the  direction  of 
his  thought;  and  even  if  all  the  sayings  and  para- 
bles attributed  to  him  should  not  be  genuine,  they 
are  conceived  in  his  manner  and  are  true  to  his 
spirit.  I  have  only  time  to  call  your  attention  to 
the  beatitudes1  as  an  illustration  of  the  closeness 
with  which  Jesus  attaches  himself  to  the  ethics  of 
the  Prophets  and  the  Psalms.     When  Jesus  says, 

"Blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit;    for  theirs  is  the  kingdom  of 
heaven," 

the  poor  meant  are  the  "poor  and  needy"  so  fre- 
quently mentioned  in  certain  groups  of  Psalms;2 
they  are  the  pious  ones  of  the  postexilic  congrega- 
tion, who,  without  worldly  ambition,  seek  to  live  a 
life  patterned  after  religious  and  ethical  ideals. 

"Blessed  are  they  that  mourn,  for  they  shall  be  comforted," 

is  paralleled  by  the  thought  so  often  expressed  in  the 
Psalms  that  they  who  sow  in  sorrow  shall  reap  in 
gladness.     Similarly,  the  third  and  sixth  beatitudes, 

"Blessed  are  the  meek,3  for  they  shall  inherit  the  earth," 

"  Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart,  for  they  shall  see  God," 

are  reflections  of  the  description  of  the  pious  and 
the  pure  in  the  Psalms,  while  the  fourth  beatitude, 

1  Matt.  5  :  3-1 1  =  Luke  6  :  20-22  (in  extract).  2  Above,  p.  241. 

3  The  term  translated  "meek"  is  the  exact  equivalent  of  the  Hebrew 
(ani,  which  is  used  in  the  Psalms  to  describe  the  pious  members  of  the 
congregation. 


316    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

"Blessed  are  they  which  do  hunger  and  thirst  for  righteousness, 
for  they  shall  be  filled," 

follows  the  thought  of  Amos1  of  the  time  when 
Yahweh  will  send  "a  famine  in  the  land,  not  a  fam- 
ine of  bread  nor  a  thirst  for  water,  but  of  hearing  the 
words  of  Yahweh. "  In  the  last  two  beatitudes, 
where  Jesus  calls  those  happy  and  blessed  who  are 
persecuted  and  defamed  because  of  their  righteous- 
ness, he  expressly  refers  to  the  Prophets,2  "for  so 
persecuted  they  the  Prophets  who  were  before  you." 
In  the  three  remarkable  chapters  of  Matthew 
(chapters  5,  6,  and  7),  which  may  be  regarded  as  a 
summary  of  the  ethics  of  Jesus,  there  is  scarcely  a 
suggestion  of  ceremonialism,  except  by  way  of  a  pro- 
test against  the  undue  emphasis  on  the  externalities 
of  religion,  precisely  in  the  manner  and  the  spirit 
of  both  pre-exilic  and  postexilic  Prophets.  The 
ethics  of  Jesus  thus  represent  the  culmination  of 
the  movement  which,  stretching  from  Moses  across 
more  than  a  millennium,  led  to  a  view  of  life  based 
on  a  conception  of  divine  government  in  which 
righteousness  and  mercy  have  usurped  the  place 
taken  by  power  and  arbitrariness,  and  formulating, 
as  the  end  of  existence,  the  perfection  of  character 
in  place  of  the  satisfaction  of  worldly  ambitions. 
Overthrowing  the  barriers  marked  by  an  undue  em- 
phasis on  ceremonialism  towards  a  further  develop- 
ment of  religious  idealism,  and  drawing  from  the 
teachings  of  the  Prophets  the  conclusion  that  relig- 
ion must  be  a  bond  uniting  all  mankind,  unfettered 

1  Amos  8:11.     Above,  p.  288.  2  Matt.  5  :  12. 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  ETHICS         317 

by  national  limitations,  the  new  religion,  which  con- 
tained so  much  of  the  old,  starts  out  weighted  with 
the  rich  legacy  of  the  past.  Transcending  the  geo- 
graphical boundaries  within  which  it  arose,  it  passes 
on  to  carry  the  message  of  the  Prophets  and  psalm- 
ists throughout  the  world. 


I  have  thus  endeavoured,  by  choosing  a  number 
of  characteristic  features  of  traditions  covering  the 
religious  views  and  the  religious  thought  of  He- 
brews and  Babylonians,  to  illustrate  the  different 
directions  taken  in  the  development  of  these  views 
and  traditions.  It  has  been  my  aim  to  show  that 
the  direction  in  each  case  is  an  expression  of  the  pe- 
culiar spirit  of  each  people.  Outwardly,  on  a  mere 
superficial  view,  civilisations  arise  in  different  parts 
of  the  world  that  have  much  in  common.  The  out- 
ward form,  following  certain  lines  of  development, 
is  frequently  similar  in  countries  separated  by  long 
distances  from  one  another,  and  in  civilisations  that 
arose  independently  of  one  another.  The  attention 
of  the  student  of  history  should  be  directed  to  the 
attempt  to  find  in  each  civilisation,  and  beneath 
the  outward  resemblance,  the  expression  of  the 
genius  or  spirit  peculiar  to  the  people.  To  repeat 
the  thought  that  I  have  endeavoured  to  illustrate 
throughout  this  work,  the  ultimate  differences  be- 
tween Hebrew  and  Babylonian  traditions  are  of 
far  greater  significance  than  the  points  of  re- 
semblance which   are  due  in  part  to  a  direct  in- 


318    HEBREW  AND  BABYLONIAN  TRADITIONS 

fluence  exercised  by  the  one  upon  the  other,  and  in 
part  are  to  be  accounted  for  through  common  ori- 
gins. The  Babylonian  civilisation  as  expressed  in 
the  course  taken  by  its  traditions,  in  the  develop- 
ment of  religious  thought  and  of  the  aim  of  life, 
betrays,  despite  its  achievements,  the  limitations  in- 
herent in  a  materialistic  conception  of  divine  govern- 
ment, which  shows  itself  both  on  the  religious  and 
on  the  ethical  side — in  the  views  taken  of  the  gods 
as  in  the  attitude  towards  life.  It  shows  itself  in 
the  political  course  of  Babylonia  and  Assyria  and 
in  their  literature  and  art,  while  the  Hebrew  civilisa- 
tion, inferior  in  achievement,  insignificant  from  the 
point  of  view  of  political  influence,  is  saturated  with 
an  idealism,  religious  and  ethical,  that  represents 
its  contribution  to  mankind,  a  contribution  of  last- 
ing value  and  one  that  was  destined  to  survive  the 
magnificence  of  ancient  empires.  It  is  this  idealism 
issuing  from  the  direction  taken  by  the  religious 
thought  and  by  the  religious  institutions  of  the  He- 
brews that  eventually  brings  about  the  wide  de- 
parture from  Babylonian  and  Assyrian  counter- 
parts, which  it  has  been  my  aim  to  explain  in  the 
case  of  the  specific  traditions  chosen  as  illustrations. 
At  the  close  of  my  task  I  am  even  more  painfully 
aware  than  at  the  beginning  of  the  futility  of  the 
attempt  to  give  an  exhaustive  treatment  of  this  im- 
portant and  fascinating  theme  in  a  brief  series  of 
lectures;  but  since  in  the  course  of  a  somewhat  ex- 
tended experience  I  have  found  the  exhaustive  treat- 
ment also  exhausting — at  least  to  the  hearer  and 


HEBREW  AND   BABYLONIAN  ETHICS         319 

reader  if  not  to  the  author — I  have  no  apology  to 
offer,  if  I  have  succeeded  in  indicating  correctly  the 
point  of  separation  between  Hebrew  and  Babylo- 
nian traditions,  and  have  made  clear  the  reason  why 
the  two  civilisations  that  have  occupied  us  have 
so  much  in  common  and  why  they  have  so  much 
more  not  in  common.  I  am  well  aware  also,  that  in 
a  course  of  this  nature  I  may  have  given  expression 
to  opinions  and  conclusions  with  which  you,  or  some 
of  you,  may  not  be  altogether  in  sympathy.  I  trust, 
however,  that  I  have  at  least  succeeded  in  placing 
the  results  of  my  studies  before  you  with  a  due 
consideration  for  your  feelings  and  a  full  sympathy 
with  your  convictions  so  far  as  they  differ  from 
mine.  The  last  word  of  true  science  should  always 
be  the  emphasis  on  the  open  mind  and  the  ex- 
pectant disposition.  The  test  of  a  genuine  desire 
for  truth  is  the  willingness  to  reinvestigate  our  con- 
clusions, the  maintenance  of  a  sympathetic  attitude 
towards  new  light,  in  the  firm  assurance  that  the 
truth  which  is  the  goal  of  mankind,  and  which  it 
should  be  the  aim  of  each  one  of  us  to  realise  so  far 
as  possible  in  our  own  life,  will  also  be  the  means  of 
our  salvation. 


APPENDIX1 

HEBREW   AND    BABYLONIAN    ACCOUNTS    OF    THE 
DELUGE 

I 

The  Babylonian  tale  of  a  destructive  and  prolonged 
rain-storm  which  swept  away  the  habitations  of  men  ex- 
ists in  several  versions,  as  is  the  case  with  the  Babylo- 
nian Creation  myth.2  There  is,  however,  this  difference 
between  the  versions  of  the  Deluge  story  and  those  of 
the  Creation  myth,  that,  while  local  forms  of  Creation 
tales  are  due  to  the  desire  of  the  priests  or  worshippers 
of  a  deity  in  a  particular  centre  to  accord  to  their  patron 
god  the  distinction  of  being  the  creator,  this  motive  does 
not  appear  to  enter  as  a  factor  in  giving  rise  to  various 
versions  of  a  catastrophe  brought  about  by  some  god  con- 
trolling the  destructive  forces  of  nature.  Nor  do  we  find 
in  the  Deluge  versions  of  Babylonia,  so  far  as  recovered, 
indications  of  a  rivalry  among  the  gods  for  the  glory 
of  having  saved  a  favourite  individual  and  his  family 
from  the  general  destruction.  In  all  versions  this  deed 
is  ascribed  to  Ea,  who  is  the  god  of  humanity  par  excel- 
lence throughout  all  periods  of  the  Babylonian-Assyrian 
religion.  It  may  be,  therefore,  that  all  the  versions  are 
to  be  traced  back  to  Eridu,  the  seat  of  Ea's  cult,  at  or 
close  by  the  Persian  Gulf, 3  which  was  the  element  sacred 

1  See  Preface,  p.  xii.  2  See  chapter  II. 

3  At  present,  however,  owing  to  the  steady  accumulation  of  soil 
through  the  deposits  of  the  Euphrates  River,  proceeding  at  the  rate  of 
about  ninety  feet  a  year,  Abu  Shahrain,  the  site  of  ancient  Eridu,  is 
about  ninety  miles  inland. 

321 


322  APPENDIX 

to  Ea  as  a  water  deity.  Perhaps  in  the  variant  names  of 
the  favourite  who  survives  the  Deluge  we  may  see  indi- 
cations of  local  rivalry,  each  centre  ascribing  the  distinc- 
tion of  being  thus  singled  out  to  its  special  heros  eponymos 
— whether  a  purely  legendary  character,  or  one  with  a 
substratum  of  historical  reality. 

The  versions  of  the  Creation  and  of  the  Deluge  agree, 
however,  in  this  respect,  that  all  are  nature-myths,  that 
is  to  say,  narratives  in  which  gods  conceived  as  forces 
of  nature  are  portrayed  as  bringing  about  a  change  of 
seasons.  Creation  and  Deluge  stories  supplement  each 
other,  the  former  symbolising  the  change  from  the  rainy 
and  stormy  season  to  the  dry  one  when  the  spring-god 
triumphs  over  the  cruel  god  of  winter,  while  the  latter 
marks  the  triumph  of  the  storm-god,  who  destroys  ver- 
dure and  vegetation  and  puts  an  end  to  all  growth.  The 
Deluge  represents,  therefore,  the  change  from  the  dry 
season  to  the  rainy  one.  Since  Babylonia  has  merely 
two  seasons,  Creation  and  Deluge  stories  thus  picture  the 
two  chief  scenes  in  the  annual  drama  of  nature.  It  was, 
as  we  have  seen,1  a  natural  thought  that  led  the  Baby- 
lonian priests  to  regard  the  rebirth  of  nature  in  the  spring 
as  repeating  annually  in  miniature  form  the  act  of  Crea- 
tion at  the  beginning  of  time,  to  take  the  annual  occur- 
rence as  the  basis  for  their  theory  of  the  beginnings  of 
things.  Correspondingly,  the  Deluge  myth  rests  on  the 
annual  decay  and  death  of  nature,  and  portrays  such 
an  occurrence,  only  magnified  to  a  universal  destruction 
which  was  suggested,  perhaps,  by  the  recollection  of  a 
particularly  violent  rainy  and  stormy  season,  accompa- 
nied by  destruction  of  cities  and  great  loss  of  life.  Before 
the  perfection  of  a  system  of  canals,  which  by  controlling 
the  overflow  of  the  Tigris  and  Euphrates  and  by  directing 
the  waters  through  the  canals  into  the  fields,  changed  the 
annual  curse  into  a  blessing  that  brought  about  the  ex- 
1  Above,  p.  96. 


APPENDIX  323 

traordinary  fertility  for  which  the  Euphrates  Valley  became 
famed,1  each  year  brought  with  it  a  deluge — at  least  on  a 
miniature  scale.  The  Deluge  story  is,  therefore,  a  myth 
of  the  annual  change  of  seasons — writ  in  large  letters; 
and  the  fact  that  we  find  deluge  stories  in  all  parts  of  the 
world2  wherever  similar  climatic  conditions  with  the  divi- 
sion into  two  seasons  as  in  Babylonia  exist  is  confirma- 
tory of  the  view  here  proposed. 

The  main  version  of  the  Babylonian  Deluge  myth 
comes  to  us,  like  the  corresponding  Creation  myth,  from  the 
great  library  gathered  by  Ashurbanapal.  Its  Babylonian 
origin  is  indicated  by  internal  evidence,  and  its  great  an- 
tiquity attested  by  being  incorporated  in  the  Babylonian 
Epic  of  Gilgamesh.  The  latter,  as  a  favourite  hero,  be- 
comes a  peg  to  which  a  variety  of  myths  and  old  tales 
and  traditions  are  attached,3  with  which  he  originally 
had  nothing  to  do,  and  which  originated  quite  indepen- 
dently of  their  present  position  in  the  Epic.  The  three 
episodes  which  alone  appear  to  form  part  of  the  original 
traditions  associated  with  the  hero,  and  which  rest  upon 
some  historical  basis,  though  the  recollections  are  obscured 
by  legendary  accretions,  are:  (i)  Gilgamesh's  control  of 
the  ancient  city  of  Uruk,  which,  as  an  invader  from  Elam, 
he  conquered  and  ruled  with  an  iron  hand;  (2)  his  con- 
flicts with  Engidu  (who  afterwards  becomes  his  friend  and 
associate)  and  with  the  tyrant  Khumbaba,  which  ap- 
pear to  rest  on  some  genuine  exploits.  Engidu  and 
Khumbaba,  however,  are  not  historical  characters.  The 
former  is  the  type  of  primeval  man,  the  latter  a  myth- 
ical personage  who  plays  a  part  in  a  nature-myth  which 
is  woven  into  the  exploits  of  Gilgamesh.     The  other  epi- 

1  See  Herodotus,  I,  §  193. 

2  See  Andree,  Die  Flutsagen  (Braunschweig,  1891),  for  a  convenient 
summary;    and,  also,  Usener,  Die  Sint flutsagen,  2d  ed.  (Bonn,  191 1). 

3  On  the  Gilgamesh  Epic  as  a  composite  production,  see  Jastrow,  Reli- 
gion of  Babylonia  and  Assyria,  chapter  XXIII,  and  Ungnad-Gressmann, 
Das  Gilgamesch-Epos  (Gottingen,  191 1),  pp.  84  seq. 


324  APPENDIX 

sodes  of  the  Epic,  so  far  as  recovered,1  such  as  (i)  Ish- 
tar's  wooing  of  Gilgamesh  and  her  rejection  by  the  hero, 
(2)  the  conflict  between  Gilgamesh  and  Ishtar,  (3)  the 
killing  of  the  divine  bull,  and  (4)  Ishtar's  revenge  in  smit- 
ing Engidu  with  disease,  to  which  he  succumbs,  are  in  part 
nature-myths,  in  part  astral  myths2  which  have  been  at- 
tached to  Gilgamesh  and  Engidu.  After  the  death  of 
Engidu,  Gilgamesh  is  represented  as  deeply  depressed, 
seized  by  the  fear  that  death,  too,  will  soon  overtake  him. 
The  last  four  tablets  of  the  Epic  are  taken  up  with  this 
theme  of  the  sad  end  in  store  for  man — death  from  which 
there  seems  to  be  no  escape.  Gilgamesh  undertakes  a 
series  of  wanderings  in  search  of  a  remote  ancestor,  Ut- 
napishtim,  the  son  of  Ubara-Tutu,  who  has  escaped  the 
common  fate  and  enjoys  immortal  life  with  the  gods. 
From  him  Gilgamesh  hopes  to  wrest  the  secret  of  immor- 
tality. After  many  adventures — into  which  again  astral 
myths  have  been  woven — he  at  last  is  face  to  face  with 
Utnapishtim,  whose  name  conveys  the  idea  of  continu- 
ous life.  Gilgamesh  tells  the  purport  of  his  quest,  but 
receives  the  sad  answer  in  reply  that  death  is  the  inexo- 
rable law  imposed  by  the  gods.  It  is  the  same  answer 
that  the  maiden,  Sabitu,  dwelling  at  the  seashore,  gives 
to  the  hero.3  Life  and  death  are  meted  out  to  man  by 
the  gods,  but  "the  days  of  death  are  not  fixed,"  i.  e., 
death  has  no  end;  it  is  eternal. 

Gilgamesh  then  asks  Utnapishtim  to  explain  how  a  mor- 
tal came  to  escape  the  universal  destiny,  for  Utnapishtim 
appears  to  be  human,  a  man  such  as  Gilgamesh  is.     In 

1  Large  portions  of  the  Epic,  which  is  recounted  in  twelve  tablets,  are 
still  missing. 

2  By  this  is  meant  occurrences  in  the  heavens  that  are  given  the  form  of 
a  narrative,  with  personifications  of  heavenly  bodies  and  constellations. 
See  Kugler,  Die  Sternenfahrt  des  Gilgamesch  (1904).  This  does  not  mean, 
however,  that  we  are  to  interpret  the  whole  of  the  Epic  as  a  series  of 
astral  myths. 

3  See  above,  p.  211. 


APPENDIX  325 

reply,  Utnapishtim  tells  the  story  of  the  great  Deluge 
planned  by  the  gods  in  council,  and  from  which  he  was 
saved  by  the  intervention  of  the  god  Ea,  who  reveals 
to  Utnapishtim  in  a  mysterious  manner  that  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  universe  has  been  decreed,  and  that  by  build- 
ing a  boat  for  himself  and  his  belongings  he  can  escape. 
The  plan  is  carried  out,  and  after  the  Deluge  is  over 
the  gods  become  reconciled  to  Utnapishtim's  escape  and 
agree  to  give  him  a  place  among  them,  to  the  extent,  at 
least,  of  granting  him  the  privilege  of  the  gods — immortal 
life. 

The  story  is  related  in  the  eleventh  tablet  of  the  Epic1 
and  begins  as  follows: 2 

"Gilgamesh  speaks  to  him,  to  Utnapishtim,  the  far-re- 
moved : 

'I  gaze  at  thee,  Utnapishtim. 

Thy  appearance  is  not  different.     As  I  am,  so  art  thou. 

And  thou  are  not  different.     As  I  am,  so  art  thou. 

Thou  art  completely  ready  for  the  fray. 

.  .  .  thou  hast  placed  upon  thee. 

(Tell  me)  how  thou  didst  enter  into  the  assembly  of  the 
gods  and  secure  life.' " 

1  That  the  twelve  tablets  correspond  to  the  twelve  months  of  the  year, 
suggested  many  years  ago  by  the  late  Sir  Henry  C.  Rawlinson,  is  indi- 
cated by  the  narrative  of  Gilgamesh's  rejection  of  Ishtar's  offer  of  mar- 
riage in  the  sixth  tablet,  corresponding  to  the  sixth  month  (counting 
from  the  spring  in  which  the  Babylonian  year  begins)  as  the  time  of 
nature's  decay.  Ishtar,  the  goddess  of  fertility  and  vegetation,  loses 
her  beauty  and  charm  as  the  winter  season  approaches.  Gilgamesh, 
assimilated  to  the  sun-god,  separates  himself  from  nature.  By  a  simi- 
lar association,  the  Deluge  story  is  related  in  the  eleventh  month,  when 
the  winter  storms  reach  their  climax.  At  the  same  time  we  may  ques- 
tion whether  this  plan  of  the  Epic  in  its  final  form  was  consistently  car- 
ried out.  Certainly  in  the  case  of  some  of  the  episodes  the  connection 
with  the  month  corresponding  to  the  number  of  the  tablet  in  the  series 
in  which  the  episode  is  recounted  is  not  obvious. 

2  A  translation  of  the  larger  portion  of  the  tablet,  that  deals  with 
the  Deluge,  was  made  by  me  about  a  year  ago  for  Professor  Fowler's 
work,  A  History  of  the  Literature  of  Ancient  Israel  (New  York,  191 2), 
pp.  80-84.     Portions  of  it  are  here  reproduced  by  permission  of  the 


326  APPENDIX 

After  this  introduction,  which  reveals  the  seam  intended 
to  attach  an  originally  independent  tale  to  the  adventures 
of  Gilgamesh,  Utnapishtim  proceeds  to  tell  his  story. 

"I  will  reveal  to  thee,  Gilgamesh,  a  secret  story, 
And  the  decision  of  the  gods  I  will  tell  thee. 
The  city  Shuruppak,1  a  city  which  thou  knowest, 
(The  one  that)  lies  on  the  Euphrates, 
That  city  was  old,  and  the  gods  thereof 
Induced  the  great  gods  to  bring  a  cyclone  over  it; 
It  was  planned(?)  by  their  father  Anu, 
(By)  their  counsellor,  the  warrior  Enlil, 
(By)  their  herald  Ninib, 
(By)  their  leader  En-nugi. 

The  lord  of  brilliant  vision,  Ea,  was  with  them. 
He  repeated  their  decision  to  the  reed-hut. 
*  Reed-hut,  reed-hut,  wall,  wall, 
Reed-hut,  hear!     Wall,  give  ear! 
O  man  of  Shuruppak,  son  of  Ubara-Tutu, 
Break  up  the  house,  build  a  ship, 
Abandon  your  property,  seek  life. 
Throw  aside  your  possessions,  and  preserve  life, 
Bring  into  the  ship  seed  of  all  living  things. 
The  ship  that  thou  shalt  build, 
Let  its  dimensions  be  measured,  (so  that) 
Its  breadth  and  length  be  made  to  correspond. 
On  a  level  with  the  deep,  provide  it  with  a  covering.' "  2 

Towards  the  close  of  the  story  the  name  of  Atrakha- 
sis,  meaning  "the  very  wise  one,"  is  introduced  as  the 
name  of  the  one  who  escaped  the  Deluge,  and  we  have 
a  fragment  of  a  second  version  of  the  story3  among  the 
tablets  of  Ashurbanapal's  library  in  which  this  name  oc- 

Macmillan  Company.  The  latest  editions  of  the  text  are  Rawlinson, 
IV  (2d  ed.),  PI.  43-44,  and  Haupt,  Das  Babylonische  Nimrodepos  (Leip- 
zig, 1891),  pp.^  134-149. 

1  Now  identified  as  the  site  of  the  mound  Fara.  The  name  also  ap- 
pears as  Shurippak,  but  the  spelling  with  u  is  more  correct. 

2  The  first  part  of  the  line  is  obscure.  I  believe  that  the  covering 
here  meant  is  the  deck  to  the  framework. 

3  See  below,  p.  343  s:q. 


APPENDIX  327 

curs,  and  which  is,  moreover,  identical  with  the  name 
given  to  the  hero  of  the  Deluge  in  the  account  that  has 
come  down  to  us  through  Berosus.1  In  an  old  Baby- 
lonian version  of  the  same  Deluge  story2  the  hero's  name 
is  likewise  Atrakhasis,  and  we  are  fortunate  in  having 
fragments  of  a  tale  of  Ea  and  Atrakhasis,3  from  which 
it  appears,  indeed,  that  in  a  certain  centre  the  latter  was 
regarded  as  the  favourite  of  the  god  of  humanity,  who 
succeeds  with  the  help  of  Ea  in  warding  off  several  times 
the  threatened  destruction  of  mankind  through  Enlil,  the 
god  of  storms.  Apparently,  the  Deluge  finally  comes  de- 
spite the  efforts  of  Ea  and  Atrakhasis. 

Now,  at  the  close  of  the  story  where  we  encounter  the 
name  of  Atrakhasis,  Ea,  who  is  endeavouring  to  reconcile 
Enlil  to  the  escape  of  a  single  human  being,  says: 

"I  did  not  reveal  the  oracle  of  the  great  gods 
I  sent  Atrakhasis  a  dream,  and  so  he  understood  the  oracle 
of  the  gods." 

We  may  therefore  divide  the  speech  of  Ea  in  which  he 
warns  his  favourite  into  two  parts,  assigning  the  mys- 
terious words,  which  are  just  the  kind  that  wTould  be  re- 
vealed in  a  dream, 

"Reed-hut,  reed-hut,  wall,  wall! 
Reed-hut,  hear!     Wall,  give  ear!" 

to  the  Atrakhasis  version,  and  the  remainder  of  the  speech, 
in  which  the  oracle  of  the  gods  is  manifestly  and  unmis- 
takably revealed,  and  which  contains  no  suggestion  of  a 
dream,  to  the  Utnapishtim  version.     This  single  example 

1  Embodied  by  Eusebius  in  his  chronicle  (ed.  Schoene),  I,  pp.  19-24. 
See  Cory,  Ancient  Fragments,  p.  60.  The  name  here  appears  as  Xisu- 
thros,  which  is  merely  the  inverted  form  of  Atrakhasis  =  Khasis-atra. 

2  See  below,  p.  340  seq. 

3  See  the  latest  translation  by  Ungnad,  in  Gressmann's  Altorienta- 
lische  Texte  und  Bilder,  pp.  61-65. 


328  APPENDIX 

will  suffice  for  our  purposes  to  show  that  in  this  main 
version  of  the  Babylonian  Deluge  stories  two  forms  of 
the  story  have  been  combined,  just  as  in  the  biblical 
tale  we  shall  find  1  two  versions  dovetailed  into  each  other. 
Utnapishtim  continues: 

"I  understood  2  and  spoke  to  Ea,  my  lord. 
(The  command)  of  my  lord  which  thou  hast  commanded, 
As  I  have  understood  (it),  I  will  carry  out. 
(But  what)  shall  I  answer  the  city,  the  people,  and  the  elders  ? 
Ea  opened  his  mouth  and  spoke: 
Spoke  to  me,  his  servant. 
(As  answer)  thus  speak  to  them: 
(Know  that)  Enlil  has  conceived  hatred  towards  me, 
So  that  I  can  no  longer  dwell  (in  your  city). 
(On)  Enlil's  territory  I  dare  no  longer  set  my  face. 
Therefore,  I  go  to  the  'deep'  to  dwell  with  Ea,  my  lord. 
Over  you  he  will  cause  blessing  to  rain  down. 
(Catch  of)  bird,  catch  of  fish, 
And rich  crops." 

The  following  lines  are  badly  preserved,  as  are  also 
those  which  begin  the  description  of  the  building  of  the 
ship,  in  which  Utnapishtim  is  assisted  by  a  body  of  work- 
men. It  would  appear  that  the  construction  is  carried 
out  according  to  a  plan  drawn  by  Utnapishtim — an  inter- 
esting allusion  to  the  architectural  methods  of  Babylonia. 

"On  the  fifth  day,  I  designed  its  outline. 
According  to  the  plan  (?),  the  walls  were  to  be  ten  gar  high. 
Correspondingly,  ten  gar  the  measure  of  its  width. 
I  determined  upon  its  shape  (and)  drew  it. 
I  weighted  it  six-fold.3 

I  divided  (the  superstructure?)  into  seven  parts. 
Its  interior  I  divided  into  nine  parts. 

1  See  below,  p.  348  seq. 

2  Referring,  evidently,  to  the  mysterious  warning,  and  not  to  the  ex- 
plicit command,  which  is  so  clear  that  it  could  not  be  misunderstood. 

3  A  difficult  line,  which  was  perhaps  intended  to  convey  the  thought 
that  the  substructure,  or  hull,  was  to  be  made  very  strong,  so  as  to  hold 
the  house  of  seven  stories,  with  nine  inner  divisions,  to  be  built  upon  it. 


APPENDIX  329 

Water-plugs  I  constructed  in  the  interior. 

I  selected  a  pole  and  added  accessories.1 

Six2  sar  of  asphalt  I  poured  on  the  outer  wall. 

Three  sar  of  pitch  (I  poured)  on  the  inner  wall. 

Three  sar  the  workmen  carried  away  in  their  baskets.3     Of 

oil, 
Besides  one  sar  oil  which  was  used  for  the  sacrifice, 
The  boatman  secreted  two  sar  of  oil." 

Obscure  as  some  of  the  building  terms  occurring  in 
this  description  are,  the  general  character  of  the  struc- 
ture is  clear.  It  is  a  house-boat  with  a  hull  or  substruc- 
ture the  walls  of  which  were  ten  gar  high.  It  was  pro- 
vided with  a  strong  deck,  and  we  may  assume  that  the 
interior  of  the  hull  was  to  be  hollow,  to  be  used  as  a  "  hold  " 
for  stores.  The  upper  structure  consists  of  a  seven-sto- 
ried building,  divided  into  nine  compartments.  If  this 
means  that  each  story  had  nine  divisions,  we  would  have 
sixty-three  rooms — a  fair-sized  apartment-house.  Great 
care  is  taken  to  make  it  water-tight.  It  is  plugged  up 
and  coated  on  the  inside  and  outside  with  asphalt  and 
pitch,  and,  if  the  interpretation  suggested  be  correct,  the 
workmen  " grafted"  a  large  quantity  of  oil  intended,  per- 
haps, for  the  hold.  After  the  structure  is  completed,  Ut- 
napishtim  celebrates  the  event  by  offerings  of  must,  oil, 
and  wine,  "like  on  the  New  Year's  festival,"  and  then 
proceeds  to  load  the  boat. 

"All  that  Fhad  I  loaded  on  her. 
All  that  I  had  of  silver  I  loaded  on  her. 

1  Another  obscure  line,  setting  forth,  as  I  believe,  the  tools  used  for 
coating  the  exterior  and  interior  of  the  house-boat  with  asphalt  and 
pitch  to  make  it  absolutely  water-tight. 

2  According  to  a  duplicate  fragment,  "three." 

3  Strange  as  it  may  seem,  the  narrator  seems  to  imply  that  the  work- 
men appropriated  three  sar  of  asphalt  and  pitch,  just  as  in  the  second 
following  line  it  is  intimated  that  the  boatman  secreted  two  sar  of  oil — ■ 
his  share  of  the  "graft,"  which  is  thus  shown  to  have  a  venerable  origin. 
References  to  graft  and  bribes  are  not  unusual  in  the  reports  of  Baby- 
lonian officials — as  far  back  as  the  days  of  Hammurapi. 


330  APPENDIX 

All  that  I  had  of  gold  I  loaded  on  her. 
All  that  I  had  of  living  beings  of  all  kinds  I  loaded  on  her. 
I  brought  to  the  ship  all  my  family  and  household; 
Cattle  of  the  field,  beasts  of  the  field,  all  the  workmen  I 
brought  on  board." 

The  ship  draws  water  to  two-thirds  of  its  bulk,  and  all 
is  ready  for  the  approaching  storm. 

"Shamash  had  fixed  the  time, 
'When  the  rulers  of  darkness(?)   at  evening  time  shall 

cause  a  terrific  rain-storm, 
Step  into  the  ship  and  close  the  door.' 
The  fixed  time  approached, 
When  the  rulers  of  darkness(?)  at  evening  time  were  to 

cause  a  terrific  rain-storm. 
I  recognized  the  symptoms  of  (such)  a  day 
A  day,  for  the  appearance  of  which  I  was  in  terror. 
I  entered  the  ship  and  closed  the  door. 
To  steer  the  ship,  to  Puzur-Kurgal,  the  boatman, 
I  entrusted  the  palace1  together  with  its  cargo." 

Then  follows  the  description  of  the  storm,  which  con- 
stitutes one  of  the  finest  passages  in  the  narrative. 

"As  morning  dawned, 
There  arose  on  the  firmament  of  heaven  black  clouds, 
Adad  thundered  therein; 
Nebo  and  Lugal  marched  in  advance, 
Ira2  tears  out  the  ship's  pole. 
Ninib  marches,  commanding  the  attack, 
The  Anunnaki  lift  torches, 
Illuminating  the  land  with  their  sheen, 
Adad's  roar  reaches  to  heaven, 
All  light  is  changed  to  darkness. 

One  day  the  hurricane  raged  .  .  . 
Storming  furiously  .  .  . 

1  Note  this  designation  given  to  the  structure — an  indication  of  its 
large  size,  with  its  many  stories  and  compartments. 

2  "God  of  pestilence." 


APPENDIX  331 

Coming  like  a  combat  over  men. 

Brother  sees  not  brother: 

Those  in  heaven1  do  not  know  one  another. 

The  gods  are  terrified  at  the  cyclone, 

They  flee  and  mount  to  the  heaven  of  Anu;  2 

The  gods  crouch  like  dogs  in  an  enclosure. 

Ishtar  cries  aloud  like  one  in  birth  throes, 

The  mistress  of  the  gods  howls  aloud: 

'That  day  be  turned  to  clay,3 

When  I  in  the  assembly  of  the  gods  decreed  evil; 

That  I  should  have  decreed  evil  in  the  assembly  of  the 

gods! 
For  the  destruction  of  my  people  should  have  ordered  a 

combat! 
Did  I  bring  forth  my  people, 
That  like  fish  they  should  fill  the  sea?' 
All  of  the  Anunnaki  weep  with  her. 
The  gods  sit  down,  depressed  and  weeping. 
Their  lips  are  closed  .  .  . 
Six  days  and  nights 
The  storm,  cyclone  (and)  hurricane  continued  to  sweep 

over  the  land." 

The  storm  thus  exhausts  its  force  in  six  days,  and  with 
the  approach  of  the  seventh  the  worst  is  over.  The  deso- 
lation wrought,  the  description  of  which  is  most  effective 
and  pathetic,  was  complete. 

"When   the  seventh  day  approached,   the   hurricane  and 

cyclone  ceased  the  combat, 
After  having  fought  like  warriors(P). 
The  sea  grew  quiet,  the  evil  storm  abated,  the  cyclone  was 

restrained. 
I  looked  at  the  day  and  the  roar  had  quieted  down. 
And  all  mankind  had  turned  to  clay. 
Like  an  enclosure  .  .  .  had  become. 
I  opened  a  window  and  light  fell  on  my  face, 
I  bowed  down  and  sat  down  (and)  wept, 
Tears  flowed  over  my  face. 
I  looked  in  all  directions  of  the  sea. 

1  A  e.,  the  gods.  2  -phe  highest  part  of  heaven. 

3  /.  e.,  be  cursed  with  destruction. 


332  APPENDIX 

At  a  distance  of  twelve  (miles)1  an  island  appeared. 
At  Mount  Nizir  the  ship  stood  still. 

Mount  Nizir  took  hold  of  the  ship  so  that  it  could  not 
move." 

The  name  of  the  mountain  on  which  the  ship  rests  sig- 
nifies "salvation,"  or  "protection,"  and  is  evidently  chosen 
with  symbolical  intent.  At  Mount  Nizir  the  house-boat 
remains  for  seven  days,  after  which  Utnapishtim  sends 
out  in  succession  a  dove,  a  swallow,  and  a  raven  to  ascer- 
tain whether  the  waters  have  abated. 

"One  day,  two  days,  Mount  Nizir,  etc.2 
Three  days  and  four  days,  Mount  Nizir,  etc. 
Five  days,  six  days,  Mount  Nizir,  etc. 
When  the  seventh  day  arrived, 
I  sent  forth  a  dove,  letting  it  free. 
The  dove  went  hither  and  thither; 
Not  finding  a  resting-place,  it  came  back. 
I  sent  forth  a  swallow,  letting  it  free. 
The  swallow  went  hither  and  thither. 
Not  finding  a  resting-place,  it  came  back. 
I  sent  forth  a  raven,  letting  it  free. 
The  raven  went  and  saw  the  decrease  of  the  waters. 
It  ate,  croaked,  (?)  but  did  not  turn  back. 
Then  I  let  (all)  out  to  the  four  regions  (and)  brought  an 

offering. 
I  brought  a  sacrifice  on  the  mountain  top. 
Seven  and  seven  adagur  jars  I  arranged. 
Beneath  them  I  strewed  reeds,  cedarwood  and  myrtle. 
The  gods  smelled  the  odor, 
The  gods  smelled  the  sweet  odor. 
The  gods  like  flies  gathered  around  the  sacrificer." 

The  reaction  among  the  gods  is  inaugurated  by  Ish- 
tar,  the  goddess  of  vegetation,  who,  when  she  saw  the  dis- 
astrous consequences  it  entailed,  had  already  regretted 

1  Or  after  a  space  of  twelve  double  hours. 

2  Sign  of  reduplication,  i.  e.,  "Mount  Nizir  took  hold  of  the  ship  so 
that  it  could  not  move." 


APPENDIX  333 

the  decision  in  which  she  had  acquiesced,  and  who 
now  boldly  denounces  Enlil,  the  god  of  storms,  as  the 
instigator. 

"As  soon  as  the  mistress  of  the  gods1  arrived, 

She  raised  on  high  the  large  necklace(?)  which  Anu  had 
made  according  to  his  art. 

*  Ye  gods,  as  surely  as  I  will  not  forget  these  precious  stones 
at  my  neck, 

So  I  will  remember  these  days — never  to  forget  them. 

Let  the  gods  come  to  the  sacrifice, 

But  let  Enlil  not  come  to  the  sacrifice. 

Because  without  reflection  he  brought  on  the  cyclone, 

And  decreed  destruction  for  my  people. ' 

As  soon  as  Enlil  arrived, 

He  saw  the  ship,  and  Enlil  was  enraged. 

Filled  with  anger  at  the  Igigi.2 

'Who  now  has  escaped  with  his  life? 

No  man  was  to  survive  the  destruction!' 

Ninib  opened  his  mouth  and  spoke, 

Spoke  to  the  warrior  Enlil, 

'Who  except  Ea  can  plan  any  affair? 

Ea  indeed  knows  every  order/ 

Ea  opened  his  mouth  and  spoke, 

Spoke  to  the  warrior  Enlil: 

'Thou  art  the  leader  (and)  warrior  of  the  gods. 

But  why  didst  thou,  without  reflection,  bring  on  the 
cyclone? 

On  the  sinner  impose  his  sin, 

On  the  evil-doer  impose  his  evil, 

But  be  merciful  not  to  root  out  completely!  be  consider- 
ate not  (to  destroy  altogether). 

Instead  of  bringing  on  a  cyclone, 

Lions  might  have  come  and  diminished  mankind. 

Instead  of  bringing  on  a  cyclone, 

Jackals  might  have  come  and  diminished  mankind. 

Instead  of  bringing  on  a  cyclone, 

Famine  might  have  come  and  overwhelmed  the  land 

Instead  of  bringing  on  a  cyclone, 

1  Ishtar. 

2  Here  a  collective  name  for  the  gods,  though  generally  designating, 
like  Anunnaki,  a  lower  group  of  divine  beings;  see  above,  pp.  331  seq. 


334  APPENDIX 

Ira1  might  have  come  and  destroyed  the  land. 

I  did  not  reveal  the  oracle  of  the  great  gods, 

I  sent  Atrakhasis  a  dream  and  he  understood  the  oracle 

of  the  gods. 
Now  take  counsel  for  him.'" 

Enlil  is  swayed  by  this  appeal  and  blesses  Utnapish- 
tim  and  his  wife. 

"Enlil  mounted  the  ship, 
Took  hold  of  my  hand  and  led  me  up,2 
Led  me  up  and  caused  my  wife  to  kneel  at  my  side, 
Touched  our  foreheads,  stepped  between  us  (and)  blessed  us. 
Hitherto  Utnapishtim  was  a  man; 
Now  Utnapishtim  and  his  wife  shall  be  on  a  level  with  the 

gods. 
Utnapishtim  shall  dwell  in  the  distance,  at  the  confluence 

of  the  streams. 
Then  they  took  me  and  settled  me  at  the  confluence  of 

the  streams. " 

The  rest  of  the  tablet 3  does  not  concern  us  here.  It 
is  taken  up  with  Gilgamesh's  sojourn  with  Utnapishtim 
and  his  wife.  This  lasts  for  a  week,  after  which  he  begins 
the  journey  to  his  home.  Gilgamesh  has  learned  the  se- 
cret of  Utnapishtim's  preservation,  but  his  quest  for  life 
has  not  met  with  success.  Utnapishtim  can  hold  out  no 
hope.  He  and  his  wife  care  for  Gilgamesh  kindly,  who, 
worn  out  with  fatigue,  falls  into  a  deep  sleep.  After  he 
has  awakened  they  provide  for  his  safe  return  across  the 
waters  of  death,  which  he  had  to  cross  to  reach  the  dwell- 
ing of  Utnapishtim.  Just  as  the  boat  is  leaving  the  shore, 
Utnapishtim  tells  Gilgamesh  of  a  plant  which  has  the  power 
of  restoring  the  aged  to  youth.  He  secures  it,  but  a  ser- 
pent robs  him  of  it,  and  naught  is  left  but  to  return  to 
Uruk  with  his  purpose  unfulfilled. 

The  last  tablet  takes  up  another  phase  of  the  same 

1  God  of  pestilence.  2  /.  e.,  brought  me  on  land. 

3  Lines  206-326,  or  one-third  of  the  whole  tablet. 


APPENDIX  335 

problem — the  mystery  of  death  and  the  search  for  im- 
mortality, but  without  reaching  any  encouraging  solu- 
tion.1 

Before  passing  on  to  a  consideration  of  the  biblical 
counterpart,  let  me  briefly  summarise  the  other  Baby- 
lonian versions  known  to  us. 


II 

The  oldest  and  most  important  of  these  versions  is 
the  one  found  by  Arno  Poebel  among  the  tablets  from 
Nippur  in  the  Museum  of  the  University  of  Pennsyl- 
vania.2 The  significant  features  of  this  version  are,  first, 
that  it  is  written  in  Sumerian,  which  in  itself  points  to 
its  high  antiquity,3  as  against  the  one  in  the  Gilgamesh 
Epic  which  is  in  Semitic  (or  Akkadian),  and,  secondly, 
that  it  occurs  as  part  of  a  continuous  narrative  which, 
like  the  group  of  narratives  and  traditions  forming  the 
first  eleven  chapters  of  Genesis,  begins  with  the  Crea- 
tion story,  passes  on  to  the  Deluge  story  and  embodies 
chronological  lists  furnishing  the  names  and  length  of 
reigns  of  early  rulers  and  dynasties  that  appear  to  rep- 
resent the  source  whence  Berosus  obtained  his  remarkable 
array  of  early  Babylonian  rulers  with  their  amazingly  long 
reigns.4  We  are  not  concerned  here  with  these  lists  which 
involve  problems  of  a  most  puzzling  character,  and  we 
have  already  referred  to  the  essential  features  of  the  order 
of  Creation  in  this  early  version  so  far  as  preserved.5 

1  See  above,  pp.  211  seq. 

2  See  the  Preface  and  above,  p.  95,  where  the  title  of  Poebel's  forth- 
coming publication  is  given. 

3  Poebel  dates  the  tablet  on  which  the  story  is  recounted  at  about  1850 
or  1900  B.  C. 

4  See  Cory,  Ancient  Fragments,  pp.  51-54  and  85-86;  Zimmern,  Keil- 
inschriften  und  das  Alte  Testament,  pp.  531  seq.;  or  Rogers,  Cuneiform 
Parallels  to  the  Old  Testament,  pp.  78-79. 

5  Above,  pp.  95  seq. 


336  APPENDIX 

Unfortunately  only  the  lower  portion  of  the  tablet, 
which  consisted  of  three  columns  each  on  obverse  and 
reverse,  is  preserved.  Poebel's  estimate  is  that  about 
three-fourths  of  the  text  is  missing,  and  he  is  in  hopes 
that  missing  portions  may  yet  be  found  either  in  the 
University  Museum  or  in  the  Imperial  Ottoman  Museum 
of  Constantinople,  where  many  of  the  tablets  from  Nip- 
pur have  been  retained.  Corresponding  to  the  role  played 
by  the  goddess  Ishtar  in  the  Gilgamesh  version,  we  find 
the  goddess  Nintu  or  Ninkharsag  lamenting  the  destruc- 
tion of  mankind— her  offspring.  The  centre  of  worship 
of  Ninkharsag  appears  to  have  been  the  ancient  city  of 
Adab,1  but  as  a  chief  goddess  she  becomes  identical,  as 
do  all  the  goddesses  of  important  centres,  with  the  great 
mother-goddess,  the  source  of  all  fertility  and  vegetation 
— the  progenitor  of  mankind.  As  such  she  appears  in 
the  new  Sumerian  text  and  is  directly  identified  with 
Innanna,  which  is  one  of  the  designations  of  Ishtar.  Nin- 
kharsag, however,  is  present  when  the  gods  decide  to  bring 
on  the  destructive  Deluge.  Her  regret,  accordingly,  comes 
too  late. 

"At  that  time  Nintu  .  .  .  like2  .  .  . 
The  holy  Innanna  (i.  e.,  Ishtar)  wailed  on  account  of  her 

people. 
Enki  (i.  e.,  Ea)  in  his  own  heart  held  counsel.'' 

This  line  furnishes  the  key-note  to  the  situation.  It  is 
evident  that  Ea  as  the  god  of  humanity  plays  the  same  part 
as  in  the  main  version  of  the  Deluge,  and  as  he  does  in 
other  Babylonian  myths.     It  is  he  who  reveals  to  Ziu- 

1  Represented  by  Bismya,  where  Dr.  E.  J.  Banks,  acting  for  the  Uni- 
versity of  Chicago,  conducted  remarkably  successful  excavations  which, 
it  is  to  be  hoped,  will  some  day  be  continued.  See  Banks,  Bismya,  or 
the  Lost  City  of  Adab  (New  York,  191 2). 

2Poebel  ingeniously  completes  the  line:  "screamed  like  a  woman  in 
travail,"  as  a  parallel  to  the  passage  in  the  Gilgamesh  Epic,  above, 
P-  331. 


APPENDIX  337 

giddu,  described  as  "king  and  priest,"  the  intention  of 
the  gods,  whose  gathering  is  expressely  referred  to: 

"The  gods  of  heaven  and  earth  invoked  the  name  of  Anil 
(and)  Enlil." 

Alas!  that  the  name  of  the  place  over  which  Ziugiddu 
rules  is  broken  off,  but  it  is  a  reasonable  conjecture  of 
Poebel's  that  since  Shuruppak  is  the  last  of  the  cities  to 
be  named  in  the  concluding  portion  of  the  Creation  ac- 
count l  in  our  text,  this  city  represents  the  capital  of 
Ziugiddu's  district.  Now  Shuruppak  (or  Shurippak),  it 
will  be  recalled,  is  also  the  home  of  Utnapishtim,  and  it 
is  against  that  place  that  the  Deluge  is  primarily  sent; 
though  this  would  mean  no  more  than  that  a  particular 
version  of  the  Deluge  was  associated  with  Shuruppak, 
just  as  Berosus's  account  is  linked  with  the  city  of  Sip- 
par.2  Ziugiddu3  would  appear  then  to  be  identical  with 
Utnapishtim,  to  which  the  element  Zi  in  the  name  which 
has  the  value  of  napishtu  "life"  directly  points.4 

Ziugiddu  is  described  as  piously  devoted  to  the  wor- 
ship of  the  gods: 

"In  humility  prostrating  himself  reverently. 
Daily  and  perseveringly  standing  in  attendance." 

The  dependence  of  the  version  in  the  Gilgamesh  Epic 
upon  the  new  version  is  unmistakably  indicated  in  the 

1  See  above,  p.  96.  2  See  below,  p.  346. 

3  Written  with  four  signs  Zi-u-gid-du,  of  which  the  last,  however,  is 
merely  a  phonetic  complement. 

4 The  two  signs,  U-Gid,  convey  the  idea  of  "long,"  or  "continuous," 
so  that  Utnapishtim  would  be  a  Semitic  rendering  of  the  idea  conveyed 
by  Ziugiddu,  though  not  perhaps  a  literal  translation.  The  equation 
between  the  two  names  is  confirmed,  as  Poebel  in  his  comments  points 
out,  by  the  important  passage,  Cun.  Texts,  Part  XVIII,  PL  30,  9,  Zi-gid- 
da  =  Ut-na-pa-{?)ash{?)-ti,  followed  in  the  next  line  by  Engidu,  the  com- 
panion of  Gilgamesh  whose  name  occurs  in  line  6.  Poebel  renders 
Ziugiddu  as  "who  made  life  long  of  days."  I  should  be  inclined  to 
say  "whose  life  is  long  of  days,"  i.  <?.,  one  who  has  continuous  life. 


338  APPENDIX 

manner  in  which  the  decision  of  the  god  is  communicated 
to  Ziugiddu.  A  deity,  whose  name  is  not  preserved  but 
who  can  be  no  other  than  Ea,  addresses  Ziugiddu  as 
follows : 

"At  the  wall  at  my  left  side  stand  and  .  .  . 
At  the  wall  I  will  speak  a  word  to  thee. 
O  my  holy  one,  listen  to  me; 
By  our  ...  a  cyclone  .  .  .  will  be  sent. 
To  destroy  the  seed  of  mankind,  to  .  .  . 
Is  the  decision,  the  oracle  of  the  assembly  of  the  gods. 
The  command  of  Anu  (and)  Enlil  .  .  . 
His  kingdom,  his  rule  .  .  . 
To  him  .  .  ." 

Clearly,  this  address  is  the  prototype  to  the  address  of 
Ea  to  Utnapishtim.1 

"Reed-hut,  reed-hut,  wall,  wall! 
Reed-hut  hear!     Wall,  give  ear!" 

The  new  version  gives  the  situation  in  a  more  precise 
form.  Ea  reveals  himself  at  the  wall  of  some  structure 
— presumably  a  sanctuary — indicated  by  a  term2  which 
has  hitherto  been  translated  reed-hut.  The  decision  of 
the  gods  is  thus  announced  in  a  somewhat  mysterious 
manner  which,  however,  must  have  contained  the  in- 
structions to  Ziugiddu  to  save  himself  and  probably  his 
family  and  belongings  by  taking  refuge  on  a  boat  to  be 
constructed  by  him.  This  portion  of  the  fourth  column 
of  the  text  is  lost.  At  the  beginning  of  the  fifth  column 
we  have  the  description  of  the  storm  and  of  the  sacrifice 
offered  by  Ziugiddu  at  the  reappearance  of  the  sun,  which 
reads  as  follows: 

1  Above,  p.  326. 

2  Kikkishu,  which  is  a  synonym  of  tarbasu — "enclosure"  {Cuneiform 
Texts,  Part  XIV,  PL  48  [No.  36331],  rev.  lines,  8-9).  The  word  may 
revert  to  primitive  days  when  the  shrines  of  the  gods  were  built  of  reeds, 
as  were  the  human  habitations. 


APPENDIX  339 

"All  the  windstorms  with  tremendous  force  together  came. 
The  cyclone1  .  .  .  raged  with  them. 
When  for  seven  days,  for  seven  nights, 
The  cyclone  in  the  land  had  raged, 
The  large  boat2  on  the  great  waters  by  the  wind  storm 

had  been  carried  along. 
Shamash  came  forth,  shedding  light  over  Heaven  and  Earth. 
Ziugiddu  (opened)   ...  of  the  large  boat. 
The  light  of  the  hero  Shamash  shone  on  the  (interior)  of 

the  large  boat. 
Ziugiddu,  the  king, 
Before  Shamash  prostrates  himself. 
The  king  sacrifices  an  ox,  (offers  up)  a  sheep." 

The  descriptions  appear  to  be  much  briefer  in  this 
version  than  in  the  Gilgamesh  narrative.  Such  episodes  as 
the  sending  out  of  the  birds  may,  therefore,  be  due  to 
that  steady  growth  and  elaboration  which  is  the  char- 
acteristic trait  of  popular  tales  everywhere.  In  its  gen- 
eral outlines,  however,  the  older  version  tallies  with  the 
later  one,  including  the  very  important  removal  of  Ziu- 
giddu to  a  distant  place  there  to  enjoy  eternal  life  like 
that  of  the  gods.  Anu  and  Enlil,  who  are  the  chief  in- 
stigators of  the  Deluge,  are  apparently  reconciled. 

"Ziugiddu,  the  king, 
Before  Anu  (and)  Enlil  he  prostrates  himself. 
Life  like  that  of  a  god  he  (i.  e.,  probably,  Enlil)  gives  him 

(i.  e.y  to  Ziugiddu). 
An  eternal  existence  like  that  of  a  god  he  grants  to  him. 
At  that  time  Ziugiddu,  the  king, 

The  name  of  .  .  .  'Preserver  of  the  seed  of  mankind/  .  .  . 
In  a   (distant?)   .   .   .  land,3  the  land  of  .  .  .  they  caused 

him  to  dwell. 
(After)   .  .  .  they  had  caused  him  to  dwell,"  4 

1  The  Sumerian  term  A-Ma-Ru  is  the  equivalent  of  abubu  (Meissner, 
Seltene  Assyrische  Ideogramme  No.  8909),  used  in  the  Gilgamesh  Epic. 

2  Ma-Gur-Gur — the  same  term  as  in  another  version  referred  to  below, 
P-  342. 

3  Poebel  reads  "mountain,"  but  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  an  island 
is  meant  like  in  the  Gilgamesh  version. 

4  The  text  now  passes  on  to  some  other  episode. 


340  APPENDIX 

There  can  be  no  question  that  we  have  in  this  "Nip- 
pur" version1  the  prototype  of  the  Utnapishtim  episode 
in  the  Gilgamesh  Epic.  The  setting  is  the  same,  the 
chief  actors  are  identical,  and  the  narrative  follows  the 
same  general  course  in  both  versions.  Such  variations 
as  a  seven  days'  duration  of  the  Deluge,  as  against  six 
days  in  the  Gilgamesh  Epic,  are  too  slight  to  merit  atten- 
tion. The  number  seven,  no  doubt,  represents  the  older 
tradition.  Incidentally,  this  Sumerian  version  confirms 
the  thesis  that  the  Deluge  myth  arose  independently  of 
the  Gilgamesh  Epic,  as  also  that  in  its  later  form  it  con- 
tains accretions  due  to  the  steady  growth  of  the  story, 
as  indicated  by  other  versions  that  were  once  current  and 
that  are  in  part  known  to  us.  The  story  is  told  in  the 
third  person,  whereas  in  the  Gilgamesh  Epic  Utnapish- 
tim himself  is  the  narrator.  Moreover,  Anu  and  Enlil 
are  introduced  as  the  heads  of  the  pantheon,  while  in 
the  Gilgamesh  version  Enlil  receives  the  first  mention, 
though  other  gods  are  also  associated  with  him.  There 
are  indications,  however,  in  this  oldest  Sumerian  version 
of  a  transfer  of  the  role  of  chief  instigator  to  Enlil,  as  the 
storm-god  par  excellence. 

Another  version  also  reverting  to  a  very  early  period, 
but  written  in  Semitic  (or  Akkadian),  is  represented  by 
a  tablet  which  is  fortunately  dated  in  the  nth  year  of 
King  Ammisaduka  on  the  28th  day  of  the  nth  month, 
corresponding  to  about  1800  B.  C.2  The  name  of  the 
hero  is  here  given  as  Atrakhasis.  The  fragment  was  pub- 
lished by  Professor  Vincent  Scheil3  and  is  now  in  the  Pier- 

1  Since  Ziugiddu  does  not  belong  to  Nippur,  but  in  all  probabilities — 
like  Utnapishtim,  to  Shuruppak,  the  tale  must  have  been  brought  to 
Nippur  and  did  not  originate  there.  The  point  of  view,  however,  in 
both  the  oldest  and  latest  versions  is  limited  to  the  Euphrates  Valley 
— to  the  "black-headed"  people,  as  the  Babylonians  called  themselves — 
and  for  whom  Babylonia  constituted  tout  le  monde. 

2  According  to  Ungnad,  who  accepts  a  higher  chronology  for  Ham- 
murapi,  c.  1973  B.  C. 

3  Recueil  de  Travaux,  relatifs  a  la  Philologie  et  V  Arch'eologie  egyptienne 
et  assyrienne,  vol.  XX,  pp.  55—61. 


APPENDIX  341 

pont  Morgan  collection.  It  forms  the  second  tablet  of 
a  series  known,  from  the  opening  words,  as  "When  the 
man  had  laid  himself  down  to  sleep."  We  fortunately 
know  the  opening  lines  of  the  Gilgamesh  Epic,  so  that 
we  can  say  definitely  that  this  Babylonian  version  was 
embodied  in  a  different  tale.  It  probably  belonged  to 
a  group  of  stories  dealing  with  Atrakhasis  and  the  god 
Ea,1  who  is  the  protector  of  Atrakhasis,  as  in  the  Gilga- 
mesh Epic  he  is  the  protector  of  Utnapishtim.  Unfor- 
tunately the  fragment  consisting  originally  of  eight  col- 
umns is  very  badly  preserved,  and  since  no  portion  of  the 
first  tablet  nor  of  any  of  the  succeeding  ones  has  been 
found,  it  is  idle  to  speculate  on  the  character  of  the  pro- 
duction in  which  Atrakhasis  was  introduced  as  the  hero 
of  the  Deluge.  From  the  small  portion  preserved  we 
obtain  a  description  of  the  storm  and  the  cry  of  despair 
of  the  people  threatened  with  destruction.  A  dialogue 
ensues,  in  all  probability  between  Ea  and  Adad,  the 
storm  deity,  in  which  the  former  reproaches  the  god  of 
storms,  thunder,  and  lightning  for  having  superinduced 
the  Deluge,  which  is  here  designated  by  the  same  term2 
that  appears  in  the  Gilgamesh  Epic.  Ea  declares  man- 
kind to  be  his  creation  and  protests  against  the  destruc- 
tion of  his  creatures.  A  portion  of  a  ship  is  referred  to, 
and  the  fragment  breaks  off"  at  the  beginning  of  an  ad- 
dress of  Atrakhasis  to  "his  lord,"  by  which  designation, 
no  doubt,  Ea  is  meant. 

We  may,  therefore,  conclude  that  we  have  here  the 
Atrakhasis  version  of  the  Deluge  and  that  the  general 
setting  is  about  the  same  as  in  the  main  version,  with 
perhaps  this  difference,  that  Adad  as  the  god  of  storms 
is  the  instigator  of  the  catastrophe  overwhelming  man- 
kind instead  of  Enlil,  though  it  is,  of  course,  possible 
that  Adad  is  merely  acting  on  the  command  of  the  head 
of  the  old  Babylonian  pantheon. 

1  See  above,  p.  327.  2  Abubu  ;  see  above,  p.  339,  note  I. 


342  APPENDIX 

The  popularity  of  the  story  is  further  illustrated  by  a 
fourth  version  which  we  owe  to  Professor  Hilprecht,1  al- 
though his  interpretation  of  it  is  open  to  question.  It  ap- 
pears to  be  much  later  than  the  one  just  discussed — proba- 
bly by  five  centuries.  Only  portions  of  fourteen  lines  are 
preserved,2  but  these  suffice  to  show  that  some  deity — no 
doubt  either  Enlil  or  Adad — is  about  to  instigate  a  catas- 
trophe involving  all  mankind.  The  portion  preserved  con- 
tains an  address  by  some  deity  announcing  the  coming  de- 
struction3 and  advising  or  ordering  some  one  to  build  a  ship. 
The  speaker  is  without  question  Ea,4  and  the  person  ad- 
dressed is  the  favourite  who  is  permitted  to  escape — Ut- 
napishtim  or  Atrakhasis — more  likely  the  latter  than  the 
former.  The  command  is  fortunately  clearly  put,  "  Build  a 
great  ship,"  and  the  detail  of  providing  it  with  a  "strong 
covering"  is  also  explicit  and  forms  a  parallel  to  the  corre- 
sponding passage  in  the  main  version,  from  which  it  ap- 
pears that  a  deck  for  the  hull  and  not  a  covering  for  the 
superstructure  is  meant.  The  large  size  of  the  construc- 
tion is  indicated  by  a  term5  which  also  occurs  in  the  old 

1  Babylonian  Expedition  of  the  University  of  Pennsylvania,  series 
D,  vol.  V,  I  (Philadelphia,  1910);  also  in  German,  Der  Neue  Fund 
zur  Sintflutgeschichte  (Leipzig,  1910).  The  fragment,  according  to 
Hilprecht,  comes  from  Nippur.  There  is  no  internal  evidence  in  the  few- 
lines  preserved  to  this  effect.  The  real  Nippur  version  is  represented 
by  Doctor  Poebel's  text,  and  even  this  one,  as  pointed  out,  did  not 
originate  in  Nippur.  If  Hilprecht's  fragment  was  really  found  in  Nip- 
pur, it  is  a  very  late  version  and  considerably  modified  from  its  original 
form. 

2  The  restorations  of  these  lines  by  Hilprecht  have  not  been  accepted 
by  scholars;    they  appear  to  be  somewhat  arbitrary. 

3  The  same  word  for  Deluge,  abubu,  as  in  the  other  versions. 

4  According  to  Hilprecht's  restoration  of  lines  2-3,  the  speaker  de- 
clares that  he  is  about  to  bring  on  the  Deluge,  which  would  make  Enlil 
the  speaker,  but  this  is  most  unlikely.  The  word  apashshar  in  the  second 
line  means  "I  will  unfold."  As  in  the  Gilgamesh  version,  Ea  reveals 
the  pirishti  Hani,  "oracle  of  the  gods."  The  end  of  the  third  line  reads 
"all  men  he  will  seize."  Ea  is  describing  what  some  other  god  proposes 
to  do. 

5  Ma-Gur-Gur,  correctly  explained  by  Poebel  as  "large  boat." 


APPENDIX  343 

"Nippur"  version.  As  in  the  main  version,  cattle1  and 
beasts  of  the  field  are  to  be  brought  into  the  ship  as 
well  as  workmen,2  but  a  new  detail  is  furnished  in  the 
specific  reference  also  to  "birds  of  heaven,"  assumed,  of 
course,  in  the  main  version  as  occupants  of  the  ship,  since 
birds  are  sent  out,  but  not  specifically  mentioned  in  the 
passage  describing  the  loading  of  the  ship. 

The  few  lines  of  this  fragment  read  as  follows: 

"...  I  (i.  e.,  Ea)  will  reveal.3 

.  .  all  men  together  he  (i.  e.,  Enlil)  will  seize. 

.  .  before  the  deluge  comes. 

.  .  whatever  there  be,  I  will  bring  about 

overthrow,  destruction,  annihilation. 
.  .  build  a  large  ship,  and 
.  .  total  be  its  construction. 

.  .  a  large  boat  carrying  what  is  to  be  saved  of  life. 
.  .  with  a  strong  covering  cover  it! 

thou  shalt  make. 

(cattle  of  the  field),  beasts  of  the  field,  birds  of  heaven, 

workman, 

.  .  .  and  family  (?)  .  .  ." 


This  fourth  version,  therefore,  adds  little  to  the  main 
one,  and  is  of  interest  chiefly  as  showing  the  various 
forms  under  which  the  tale,  recounted  independently  or 
woven  in  with  composite  productions,  was  circulated. 

Lastly,  we  have  in  AshurbanapaPs  library  indications 
of  still  another  version,4  which,  so  far  as  preserved,  differs 

XI  venture  to  restore  the  beginning  of  line  n  in  accordance  with 
the  Gilgamesh  Epic,  XI,  86 — the  parallel  passage. 

2  Um-mi-ni  in  line  12  corresponds  to  um-ma-a-ni  in  the  Gilgamesh 
Epic,  XI,  8 1 .  Hilprecht's  restoration  of  the  line  in  order  to  force  a  paral- 
lel to  the  biblical  statement  in  Gen.  6  :  20  is  quite  out  of  the  question. 

3  The  line  is  perhaps  to  be  completed,  "The  decision  of  the  great  gods, 
I  will  reveal"  (pirishti  Hani  rabilti  apashshar). 

4  See  Haupt,  Das  Babylonische  Nimrodepos,  p.  131,  for  the  text;  Ung- 
nad,  Das  Gilgamesch-Epos,  p.  19,  for  a  recent  German  translation;  for 
an  English  one,  Rogers,  Cuneiform  Parallels  to  the  Old  Testament,  pp. 
103-4. 


344  APPENDIX 

from  the  main  one  in  again  naming  Atrakhasis  as  the 
hero  of  the  Deluge.  It  belongs,  therefore,  to  the  same 
category  as  the  third  version  and,  indeed,  it  is  not  im- 
possible that  it  represents  in  fact  a  part  of  the  fourth 
version,  just  discussed.1  It  contains  the  close  of  Ea's 
command  to  Atrakhasis  in  regard  to  the  building  of  the 
ship  and  the  beginning  of  Atrakhasis's  reply.  It  thus 
joins  on  to  the  fragment  published  by  Hilprecht.  So  far 
as  decipherable,2  it  reads  as  follows: 

"When  the  time  that  I  shall  indicate  to  you  (arrives), 
Enter  (the  ship)  and  close  the  door  of  the  ship. 
(Bring)  into  it  thy  grain,  thy  possessions,  and  thy  goods, 
(Thy  wife  (?)),  thy  family,  thy  household  and  workmen. 
(Cattle)  of  the  field,  beasts  of  the  field,  all  kinds  of 

herbs  .  .  . 
I  will  indicate  (?)  to  thee  to  preserve  (thy)  door."  3 

The  address  amplifies  in  some  respects  the  parallel 
passage  in  the  main  version,4  but  omits  the  specifications 
in  regard  to  the  ship.  Atrakhasis  asks  for  these  in  his 
answer  to  Ea,  pleading  his  inexperience  in  ship-building. 

"Atrakhasis  opened  his  mouth  and  spoke, 
Spoke  to  Ea,  his  lord. 
I  have  never  built  a  ship  .  .  . 
Draw  (its  design)  on  the  ground. 
Let  me  see  the  design,  and  (I  will  build)  the  ship. 
(Ea)  drew  (its  design)  on  the  ground. 
.  .  .  which  thou  commandest  (I  will  build).,, 

The  passage  helps  us  to  understand  the  description  of  the 
construction  in  the  main  version5  where  Utnapishtim  is 
portrayed  as  himself  making  the  design  and  building  ac- 

1  The  Assyrian  copy  is,  of  course,  the  copy  of  an  older  Babylonian 
original. 

2  Only  seventeen  lines  are  preserved  and  some  of  them  in  part  only. 

3  The  line  is  obscure.  The  sense  seems  to  be  that  Ea  will  indicate  to 
Atrakhasis  how  he  will  be  able  to  keep  food  during  the  time  of  the 
Deluge. 

4  Lines  25-27;  above,  p.  326.  6  Lines  58-60;    above,  p.  328. 


APPENDIX  345 

cording  to  it.  The  touch  of  having  the  god  Ea,  show  Atra- 
khasis  the  plan  of  the  house-boat,  which  was  certainly  an 
unusual  construction,  may  strike  one  at  first  as  naive, 
but  is  in  reality  rationalistic  to  explain  how  any  one  could 
have  thought  of  building  a  house-boat  of  such  strange 
design  and  such  huge  proportions.  The  sceptic  has  ap- 
peared on  the  scene  and  has  begun  to  ask  questions.  It 
is  in  this  way,  as  well  as  through  the  inherent  interest 
of  people  for  spinning  out  favourite  tales  by  further  de- 
tails, that  popular  stories  grow  from  generation  to  gen- 
eration. This  second  version  in  Ashurbanapal's  library 
is  clearly  more  prolix  even  than  the  main  one,  and  there- 
fore in  all  probabilities  of  later  origin.1 

We  have  still  to  consider  briefly  an  account  of  the 
Babylonian  Deluge  as  given  by  Berosus  in  his  lost  his- 
tory of  Babylonia,  but  which  has  been  preserved  to  us  in 
the  form  handed  down  by  Alexander  Polyhistor  and  em- 
bodied in  the  chronicle  of  Eusebius.2  The  name  of  the 
hero  is  Xisuthros  (more  accurately  Xisouthros),3  which, 
as  already  stated,4  is  an  inverted  form  of  Atrakhasis. 
The  identification  is  confirmed  by  the  name  of  Xisu- 
thros's  father  which  appears  in  Alexander  Polyhistor  as 
Otiartes  and  is  clearly  identical  with  Ubaru-Tutu,  the 
father  of  Utnapishtim.  In  the  Gilgamesh  version,  there- 
fore, Atrakhasis  has  been  amalgamated  with  Utnapish- 
tim and  the  former  name  was  probably  regarded  by  the 
compiler  as  merely  an  epithet   ("the  very  wise  one"), 

1  It  may  be  well  to  remind  the  reader  once  more  that  although  the 
texts  in  Ashurbanapal's  library  are  all  copies  made  in  the  seventh  cen- 
tury, the  age  of  the  originals  naturally  varies.  Old  and  new  are  com- 
mingled in  this  collection,  and  to  complicate  the  situation  the  old  is  modi- 
fied in  being  handed  down  from  age  to  age  before  it  is  given  its  final  form. 

2  Schoene's  edition,  Eusebii  Chronicon  Libri  duo,  I,  pp.  20-24  (Ber- 
lin, 1875).  See  Rogers's  Cuneiform  Parallels  to  the  Old  Testament,  pp. 
109-112,  and  Cory,  Ancient  Fragments,  pp.  60-63;  also  p.  54  for  an 
extract  from  Berosus  preserved  by  Abydenus.  Berosus  flourished  in 
the  days  of  Antiochus  Soter  (281-262  B.  C). 

3  Variant  forms  are  Sisouthros  and  Sisithros.      4  Above,  p.  327,  note  1. 


346  APPENDIX 

given  to  Utnapishtim.  Xisuthros  appears  as  a  king  in 
Berosus's  version,  precisely  as  Ziugiddu  is  a  king,  and  in 
the  same  author's  list  of  ten  antediluvian  rulers,1  he  is 
named  as  the  last  one  before  the  Deluge.  Kronos,  who 
for  Berosus  represents  the  equivalent  of  the  god  Ea, 
reveals  the  decision  of  the  gods  to  bring  on  a  deluge  to 
Xisuthros  by  means  of  a  dream.  A  reference  to  Ziugiddu's 
ability  to  interpret  dreams  occurs  in  the  Sumerian  ver- 
sion, though  it  is  not  clear  that  the  mysterious  revela- 
tion of  Ea  to  Ziugiddu  is  made  in  a  dream.  A  new 
touch  in  Berosus's  account  is  the  mention  of  Sippar  as 
the  home  of  Xisuthros,  pointing  to  that  place  as  the  source 
of  the  Atrakhasis  version.  The  hero  is  instructed  to 
write  down  "the  beginning,  middle  and  end  of  all  things" 
— an  allusion,  perhaps,  to  the  long  chronological  lists  of 
early  rulers  which  had  been  handed  down  in  Babylonia 
from  older  days.  After  writing  his  history,  Xisuthros  is 
to  build  a  ship  and  to  bring  his  relatives  and  friends  into 
it,  as  well  as  winged  creatures  and  four-legged  animals 
and  plenty  of  provisions.  As  in  the  Gilgamesh  version, 
the  hero  is  instructed  to  give  an  answer  if  he  is  plied 
with  questions.  He  should  say  that  he  is  sailing  "to  the 
gods  to  see  that  things  may  be  well  with  men."  The 
boat  is  specified  as  five  stadia  long  and  two  stadia  wide. 
"Wife,  children  and  close  friends"  are  placed  on  board 
and  the  storm  breaks  loose.  Its  duration  is  not  indi- 
cated, but  when  all  is  over  birds  are  sent  out  which  at 
first  return,  "finding  neither  food  nor  a  place  to  rest," 
but  upon  their  being  sent  out  a  second  time  come  back 
with  clay  on  their  feet,  and  when  let  forth  a  third  time 
do  not  return  to  the  boat.  The  ship  had  grounded  on 
a  mountain,  and  Xisuthros,  having  satisfied  himself  that 
the  waters  had  abated,  "removed  a  part  of  the  side  of 
the  ship,"  went  out  with  his  "wife  and  daughter  and  the 
pilot,"  erected  an  altar,  and  brought  a  sacrifice.  After 
1  See  the  references  above,  p.  335,  note  4. 


APPENDIX  347 

that  he  vanished  with  those  who  had  come  out  of  the 
ship.  Those  who  had  remained  in  the  ship  landed  and 
sought  in  vain  for  Xisuthros,  "calling  him  by  name." 
Xisuthros  did  not  return,  but  a  voice  came  from  heaven 
announcing  that  Xisuthros  had  gone  to  dwell  with  the 
gods,  and  calling  upon  people  to  pay  reverence  to  the 
gods.  Wife,  daughter,  and  pilot  are  to  share  the  hon- 
ours accorded  to  Xisuthros.  The  voice  also  called  upon 
those  seeking  for  Xisuthros  to  return  to  Babylon  from 
Armenia,  where  the  ship  had  landed,  to  recover  the 
writings  left  by  Xisuthros  at  Sippar  and  to  share  them 
with  men.  They  did  so,  and  "founded  many  cities  and 
thrones  and  again  repopulated  Babylonia." 

The  variations  in  this  account  from  all  of  the  versions 
considered  are  for  the  most  part  slight  but  significant 
as  showing  that  new  touches  were  constantly  being  added. 
The  story  became  increasingly  composite  in  character, 
the  general  tendency  being  to  combine  the  existing  ver- 
sions into  one.  In  the  process,  however,  details  were  also 
lost.  So  Berosus  omits  to  tell  us  how  long  the  storm 
lasted.  No  figures  are  mentioned  by  him  at  all  except 
in  the  case  of  the  dimensions  of  the  ark.  No  birds  are 
specified;  the  scene  between  Enlil  and  Ea  is  omitted,  and 
the  close,  introducing  the  voice  from  heaven,  is  tinged 
with  rationalism,  though  of  a  naive  type.  A  moral  is 
attached — to  worship  the  gods,  and  an  obscure  tradition 
of  the  recovery  of  lost  writings1  also  incorporated  with 

1  In  the  Jewish  Midrash  there  are  interesting  allusions  to  lost  writings 
which  Noah  recovers,  and  from  which  he  learns  how  to  build  the  ark 
and  how  to  gather  the  animals.  In  fact,  he  obtains  from  the  book  which 
was  given  to  Adam  by  the  angel  Raziel  a  knowledge  of  all  secrets  and 
mysteries  so  that  he  becomes  a  veritable  Atrakhasis,  "the  very  wise  one." 
See  Ginzberg,  Legends  of  the  Jews,  vol.  I,  pp.  154-7.  The  Midrashic 
division  of  Rabbinical  literature  represents  this  same  popular  process  of 
spinning  out  popular  tales.  Despite  its  late  origin,  therefore,  the  Jew- 
ish Midrash  retains  many  old  touches.  There  is,  no  doubt,  some  direct 
connection  between  the  account  of  a  recovered  book  from  which  Noah 
derives  his  knowledge  and  the  references  in  Berosus  to  hidden  writings. 


348  APPENDIX 

the  tale.  The  specification  that  the  ship  landed  in  Ar- 
menia impresses  one  as  a  later  addition,  reflecting,  per- 
haps, the  identification  of  the  biblical  Ararat  (Gen.  8  :  4) 
with  a  mountainous  district  of  Armenia. 

The  account  of  Berosus,  on  the  other  hand,  shows  that 
the  substantial  character  of  the  Deluge  as  a  nature-myth 
remained  unchanged.  The  myth,  to  be  sure,  is  somewhat 
obscured  and  the  attempt  is  made  to  give  it  the  aspect 
of  a  story  with  a  moral.  Although  it  is  a  weak  attempt, 
yet  it  points  to  the  beginning  of  the  process  which,  com- 
pletely carried  out  among  the  Hebrews,  transformed  the 
nature-myth  as  it  did  the  Creation  myth  into  an  ethical 
parable.  Let  us  now  turn  to  the  biblical  account  of  the 
great  Deluge. 

Ill 

Corresponding  to  the  two  versions  of  the  biblical 
Creation  story  we  have  two  accounts  of  the  Deluge,1 
but  while  the  versions  of  the  Creation  follow  each  other 
the  two  records  of  the  catastrophe  that  wiped  out  all 
mankind  are  combined  and  so  skilfully  dovetailed  into 
each  other  that  until  a  few  generations  ago  biblical  schol- 
ars had  failed  to  notice  the  composite  character  of  the 
four  chapters  of  Genesis  in  question. 

Both  accounts  strike  the  characteristic  ethical  note  of 
the  transformed  traditions  of  the  remote  past  by  empha- 
sising the  corruptness  of  man  as  the  cause  of  the  Deluge 
as  against  the  Babylonian  versions,  none  of  which  assigns 
any  cause  whatsoever  for  the  catastrophe.  Of  the  two 
versions  the  one  forms  part  of  a  series  of  narratives  run- 

^en.  6  to  9,  vs.  17;  vss.  18-19  and  28-29  of  chapter  9  form  an 
introduction  leading  to  chapter  10,  while  the  little  section,  verses  20-27, 
is  recognised  by  critics  as  an  independent  tale,  and  is  introduced  at  this 
point  as  a  protest  against  viniculture.  See  the  author's  paper,  "Wine 
in  the  Pentateuchal  Codes,"  in  the  Journal  of  American  Oriental  Society, 
vol.  XXXIII,  pp.  180-192. 


APPENDIX  349 

ning  through  the  book  of  Genesis  ascribed  to  the  Yah- 
wist,  the  other  is  embodied  in  the  Priestly  Code.  We  have, 
therefore,  the  same  conditions  that  we  encountered  in  the 
case  of  the  Creation  narrative.1  The  Yahwist  is  the  older 
of  the  two,  and,  though  pre-exilic,  his  account  shows 
traces  of  having  been  subsequently  worked  over.  The 
Priestly  Code  is  a  considerably  later  compilation,  and 
belongs  to  the  postexilic  period,  while  the  combination 
of  the  Priestly  Code  with  the  Yahwist  document  carries 
us  down  to  a  still  later  date.  In  the  combination  of  the  two 
the  dividing-lines  have  in  some  instances  become  so  faint 
as  to  be  barely  distinguishable,  though,  for  the  most  part, 
the  separation  can  be  made  with  tolerable  certainty. 

The  proof  for  the  existence  of  the  two  versions  in  the 
present  form  of  the  biblical  narrative  is  to  be  found  in 
the  many  repetitions,  the  double  records  of  such  inci- 
dents as  (i)  the  declaration  of  God  of  the  wickedness  of 
man  and  the  corruption  of  the  earth  as  the  reason  for 
the  catastrophe,2  (2)  the  double  address  of  God  to  Noah 
to  enter  the  ark,3  in  the  one  case  to  take  in  seven  pairs  of 
each  clean  animal  species  and  a  pair  of  the  unclean,  in  the 
other  case  a  pair  of  each  animal  species,  (3)  the  double 
record  of  the  entry  of  Noah  and  his  family  and  of  the 
animals  into  the  ark,4  (4)  the  double  statement  of  the  ris- 
ing of  the  waters,  of  their  covering  the  mountains,  and  of 
the  floating  of  the  ark  on  the  waters,5  (5)  the  double  decla- 

1  See  above,  pp.  98  seq. 

2  Gen.  6  :  5-8  (Yahwist);  6  :  11-13  (Priestly  Code). 

3  Gen.  7  :  1-6  (Yahwist);   Gen.  6  :  18-22  (Priestly  Code). 

4  Gen.  7  :  7  (Yahwist);  7  :  13-16  (Priestly  Code).  Note  also  such 
variations  as  the  mention  of  the  three  sons  of  Noah  in  the  Priestly 
Code  while  the  Yahwist  (or  P  and  J,  as  we  may  briefly  designate  the 
two  documents)  simply  says  "his  sons."  The  abbreviation  J  stands 
for  Jahwist,  which  is  the  German  spelling  for  Yahwist. 

6  Gen.  7  :  18  and  23  (Yahwist);  7  :  17;  19  :  20-22  (Priestly  Code). 
The  distribution  between  J  and  P  in  such  instances  of  a  complete  dove- 
tailing can  no  longer  be  determined  with  absolute  certainty,  but  an 
approximate  division  is  quite  sufficient. 


350 


APPENDIX 


ration  at  the  close  of  the  narrative  of  God's  resolve  not 
to  bring  on  such  a  catastrophe  again.1 

As  an  illustration  let  me  place  side  by  side  the  state- 
ment of  J  and  P  regarding  the  reason  for  the  Deluge  and 
the  announcement  of  its  coming. 


J 

Gen  6:  5-8: 

"And  Yahweh  saw  that  the 
wickedness  of  man  was  great 
in  the  earth  and  all  the  inclina- 
tion of  the  thoughts  of  his 
heart1  continuously  evil.  And 
Yahweh  repented  that  he  had 
made  man  on  the  earth,  and  it 
grieved  him  at  his  heart;  and 
Yahweh  said,  'I  will  blot  out 
man  whom  I  have  created  from 
the  face  of  the  earth,2  for  I  re- 
pent that  I  have  made  him.'3 
But  Noah  found  grace  in  the 
eyes  of  Yahweh." 

1  "Heart"  used,  as  consistently 
in  Hebrew,  for  "mind." 

2  Subsequent  addition  "from 
man  to  beast,  even  to  creeping 
things,  even  to  the  birds  of  heav- 
en" to  explain  the  universality  of 
the  destruction  which  was  intended 
to  strike  at  man  first  of  all. 

3  So  the  original  reading  of  the 
text  which  is  changed  to  "I  have 
made  them"  to  conform  to  the  in- 
clusion of  all  animals,  through  the 
subsequent  addition  referred  to  in 
the  preceding  note. 


Gen.  6  :  n-13:1 

"Now,  the  earth  was  cor- 
rupt before  Elohim,  and  the 
earth  was  filled  with  violence. 
And  Elohim  saw  that  the  earth 
was  corrupt,  for  all  flesh  had 
corrupted  his  way  upon  the 
earth.  And  Elohim  said  to 
Noah,  'The  end  of  all  flesh  is 
come  before  me,  for  the  earth 
is  filled  with  violence  through 
them.  Therefore,  I  will  de- 
stroy the  earth."' 2 

1  Vss.  9  and  10,  forming  an  intro- 
duction to  the  P  document,  are 
given  below,  p.  352. 

2  This  appears  to  have  been  the 
original  reading,  which  is  also  the 
logical  one.  The  addition  of  the 
suffix  "them"  to  the  participial 
form  of  the  verb  "destroy"  was 
probably  superinduced  through  the 
combination  of  the  P  document 
with  J,  and  which,  therefore,  at  this 
point  assumes,  as  indicated  in  the 
addition  in  Gen.  6  :  7,  that  all  liv- 
ing creatures  and  not  merely  man 
are  to  be  destroyed.  The  Hebrew 
construction  in  the  present  form  of 
the  text  at  the  close  of  vs.  13  is 
awkward  and  necessitates  the  addi- 
tion of  the  conjunction  and  (as  is 
done  in  the  Greek  translation)  in 
order  to  give  any  meaning. 


JGen.  8  :  21-22  (Yahwist);    9  :  8-11  (Priestly  Code). 


APPENDIX  351 

Such  "doublets"  can  only  be  satisfactorily  accounted 
for  on  the  assumption  that  some  redactor,  following  what 
we  now  know  to  have  been  the  regular  method  of  com- 
position in  the  ancient  Orient,  combined  at  least  two  ac- 
counts of  the  same  event  into  one  continuous  narrative. 
I  say  at  least  two,  for  there  are  indications  that  one  of 
the  documents  so  combined  is  itself  the  result  of  a  com- 
posite process,  namely,  the  P  document,  which  embodies 
the  narrative  of  the  Elohist  with  additions  that  point  to 
a  third  version.1  As  an  illustration  of  complete  dove- 
tailing we  may  instance  the  account  of  the  building  of 
the  ark,2  in  which  statements  from  both  documents  have 
been  so  combined  as  to  make  it  impossible  to  say  which 
is  J  and  which  is  P. 

Gen.  7  :  14-16: 

"Make  for  thyself  an  ark  of  gopher  wood;3  and  thou  shalt 
coat  it  on  the  inside  and  outside  with  pitch.  Thus  shalt  thou 
make  it:  Three  hundred  cubits  shall  be  the  length  of  the  ark, 
fifty  cubits  the  width  thereof,  and  thirty  cubits  the  height 
thereof.     A  deck4  of  a  full  cubit  thou  shalt  make  for  the  ark, 

1  The  detailed  proof  for  this  thesis  must  be  reserved  for  a  special  ar- 
ticle on  the  subject. 

2  Gen.  6  :  14-16.  There  is  only  one  account  of  the  building  of  the  ark, 
which  is,  therefore,  an  indication  that  the  three  verses  in  which  the  ark 
is  described  represent  the  combination  of  both  documents.  It  is,  there- 
fore, immaterial  whether  we  put  it  on  the  J  or  on  the  P  side,  if  we  only- 
bear  in  mind  that  both  documents  are  represented  in  the  account. 

3  "Make  the  ark  in  compartments"  is  apparently  an  addition  by 
some  redactor  but  which  appears  to  be  out  of  place.  It  fits  in  as  an 
explanatory  note  at  the  end  of  vs.  16. 

4  The  word  that  occurs  here,  sohar,  cannot  be  a  "window,"  as  it  was 
translated  in  the  authorised  version,  for  a  different  term  is  used  to  in- 
dicate a  window  in  chapter  8  :6.  Nor  can  it  very  well  be  a  "light,"  as 
the  revised  version  renders  it,  since  the  ark  consisted  of  three  stories, 
one  above  the  other,  and  there  would  be  little  use  for  a  skylight.  The 
addition  of  "above"  points  to  a  covering,  and,  since  in  two  Babylonian 
versions  a  covering  is  particularly  referred  to  and  its  strength  empha- 
sised, it  seems  more  plausible  to  assume  that,  however  sohar  is  to  be 
explained  etymologically,  it  designates  a  deck  in  this  passage.  In  the 
Tell  el  Amarna  Letters  (ed.  Knudtzon,  No.  233,  11),  suhru  or  zuhru 


352  APPENDIX 

and  a  door  to  the  ark  on  the  side  thou  shalt  make;1  a  lower 
story,  a  second  story  and  a  third  story  thou  shalt  make  it." 

If  we  make  the  attempt  to  take  the  narrative  as  a 
unit,  it  is  quite  impossible  to  thread  our  way  through  the 
jungle  in  Gen.  7  :  12  to  8  :  19,  which  comprises  the  chief 
details  in  the  story,  whereas  if  we  distribute  among  the 
two  documents  the  figures  giving  the  duration  of  the 
Deluge  and  of  Noah's  stay  in  the  ark,  all  becomes  per- 
fectly clear.  The  Priestly  Code,  always  distinguished  by 
its  interest  in  genealogies  and  by  its  detailed  figures,  gives 
us  the  genealogy  of  Noah  (Gen.  6  :  9-10)  as  follows: 

"These  are  the  generations2  of  Noah.  Noah  was  a  righteous 
man,  perfect  in  his  generation.  Noah  walked  with  Elohim.3 
And  Noah  begat  three  sons,  Shem,  Ham  and  Japheth.,, 

Wherever,  therefore,  these  sons  are  named  {e.  g.,  Gen. 
7  :  13;  9  :  18)  we  may  be  sure  of  having  the  P  document 

which  comes  close  to  our  word,  is  introduced  as  a  Canaanitish  gloss  to 
Assyrian  siru,  the  ordinary  word  for  "back,"  which  would  be  an  ap- 
propriate term  to  designate  a  deck  or  "covering"  for  the  hull  on  which 
the  superstructure  was  to  be  erected.  It  would  hardly  be  in  place  to 
speak  of  the  roof  before  mentioning  the  three  stories.  The  words 
"to  a  cubit  thou  shalt  make  it"  would  be  intended  to  indicate  the 
thickness  or  solidity  of  the  deck  so  as  to  hold  the  superstructure, 
corresponding  to  the  "six  layers"  of  which  the  deck  was  to  consist  ac- 
cording to  the  main  Babylonian  version  (above,  p.  328).  I  take  the 
word  "above"  as  an  explanatory  gloss  to  the  rare  term  sohar  which 
occurs  in  the  Old  Testament  in  this  single  passage  only.  ^ 

1  /.  e.,  an  entrance  into  the  hull  or  hold.  One  is  reminded  of  Bero- 
sus's  account  (above,  p.  346),  who  refers  to  Atrakhasis  "removing  a  part 
of  the  side  of  the  ship"  as  a  means  of  exit. 

2  Of  such  genealogical  lists  we  have  ten  in  Genesis,  all  introduced  by 
the  phrase  "These  are  the  generations,"  etc.  (Gen.  5:1;  6  :  9;  10  :  1; 
11  :  10,  27;  25  :  12,  19;  36  : 1,  9;  37  :  2),  exclusive  of  Gen.  2  :  4:  "These 
are  the  generations  of  heaven  and  earth." 

3  The  redundancy  in  the  description  of  Noah  as  (1)  righteous,  (2)  as 
perfect  in  his  generation,  (3)  that  he  walked  with  Elohim  points  to  a 
combination  of  several  documents  in  P,  to  which  reference  was  made 
above,  p.  351.  There  are  many  more  instances  of  this  in  P's  account 
of  the  Deluge. 


APPENDIX  353 

before  us.  Similarly,  figures  giving  the  age  of  Noah  (Gen. 
7  :  6)  at  the  time  of  his  entering  the  ark,  together  with 
the  mention  of  the  month  and  day — the  17th  day  of  the 
2d  month — when  the  Deluge  began  (Gen.  7  :  11),  the 
period  during  which  the  waters  increased  (Gen.  7  :  24;  8  : 
3),  150  days — the  date  when  the  ark  rested  on  the  moun- 
tains of  Ararat  (Gen.  8  :  4) — the  17th  day  of  the  7th 
month — the  decrease  of  the  waters  till  on  the  nth  day  of 
the  10th  month  the  tops  of  the  mountains  were  seen 
(Gen.  8  :  5),  and  finally  the  period  when  the  waters  had 
dried  up,  the  27th  day  of  the  2d  month  (Gen.  8  :  14) — 
all  these  numerical  details  are  the  earmarks  of  the  Priestly 
Code.  According  to  this  document,  12  months  and  10 
days  elapse  from  the  time  that  Noah  enters  the  ark  till 
he  leaves  it,  or,  since  the  basis  of  calendrical  calculation 
is  the  lunar  month  of  alternately  29  and  30  days,  this 
gives  us  a  lunar  year  of  354  days  plus  10  days  to  round 
out  a  solar  year  of  about  365  days.1 

By  way  of  contrast  we  have  in  the  Yahwist  version 
general  and  round  figures,  like  seven  and  forty,  repeated 
several  times,  but  which  taken  altogether  give  us  a  con- 
siderably smaller  total  for  the  stay  in  the  ark.  Seven 
days  after  Noah  enters  the  ark  (Gen.  7  :  4)  the  rain 
begins.  It  lasts  forty  days  and  forty  nights  (Gen.  7  :  4 
and  12).2  After  forty  days  (Gen.  8  :  6)  Noah  opens  a 
window  and  sends  forth  a  dove  (Gen.  7:7).  This  dove 
is  sent  forth  twice  again  (Gen.  7  :  10,  12),  at  intervals 
of  seven  days,  so  that  when  Noah  prepares  to  leave  the 
ark  only  108  days  have  passed  since  the  time  that  he 
entered  it3  as  against  a  full  solar  year  according  to  the 

1  This  exact  calculation,  assuming  a  scientifically  ordered  calendar  in 
which  the  lunar  months  are  taken  as  a  basis  but  accommodated  to  make 
the  lunar  year  accord  with  the  apparent  annual  revolution  of  the  sun 
along  the  ecliptic,  points  to  the  very  late  date  of  the  final  redaction  of 
the  P  version. 

2  In  vs.  4  the  duration  is  announced  and  in  vs.  12  stated  as  a  fact. 

3  Eighty  days  plus  4  times  7  days  equal  108  days. 


354 


APPENDIX 


Priestly  document.     To  bring  out  the  main  contrasts  be- 
tween the  two  accounts,  let  me  put  side  by  side  the  state- 
ments of  J  and  P  in  regard  to  the  animals  entering  the 
ark  and  the  duration  of  Noah's  stay, 
(i)  The  command  to  enter  the  ark. 


Gen.  7  :  1-6: 

"And  Yahweh  said  to  Noah, 
*  Enter  thou  and  all  thy  house 
into  the  ark,  for  I  have  seen 
thee  righteous  before  me  in  this 
generation. 

'"Of  all  clean  beasts  take 
thou  seven  each,  male  and  fe- 
male,1 and  of  beasts  which  are 
not  clean  two  each,  male  and 
female,2  also  of  the  birds  of 
heaven  seven  each,  male  and 
female,3  to  keep  seed  alive  on 
the  face  of  the  earth.  For 
after  seven  days  I  will  cause 
it  to  rain  on  the  earth  forty 
days  and  forty  nights,  and 
blot  out  all  creatures  which  I 
made,  from  the  face  of  the 
earth/  And  Noah  did  accord- 
ing to  all  that  Yahweh  com- 
manded him." 

literally,  "man  and  his  wife" 
which  is  the  phrase  characteristic 
of  J,  whereas  P  uses  the  ordinary- 
Hebrew  words  for  "male  and  fe- 
male."    (Gen.  6  :  19;   7  :  16.) 

2  See  preceding  note. 

3  In  this  instance  the  terms 
"male  and  female"  are  the  same 
as  in  P,  but  the  entire  verse  3  is 
under  suspicion  of  being  a  later  in- 
sertion in  J  to  make  the  narrative 
conform  to  Gen.  6  :  20. 


Gen. 6  :  18-22: 

"'  But  I  have  established  my 
covenant  with  thee.1  There- 
fore, enter  thou  into  the  ark, 
thou  and  thy  sons  and  thy  wife 
and  the  wives  of  thy  sons  with 
thee,  and  of  all  living  things,2 
two  of  each  shalt  thou  bring 
into  the  ark  to  keep  alive  with 
thee,  male  and  female  shall  they 
be.3  Of  birds  after  their  kind, 
of  beasts  after  their  kind,  of  all 
things  creeping  on  the  ground 
after  their  kind,  two  of  each 
shall  come  to  thee  to  keep  them 
alive.4  But  thou  take  for  thee 
of  all  food  that  may  be  eaten 
and  store  it,  that  it  may  be  for 
thee  and  for  them  as  food.'  And 
Noah  did  according  to  all  that 
Elohim  had  commanded  him. 
So  he  did."5 

1  The  reference  to  the  covenant 
is  characteristic  of  the  Priestly 
Code. 

2  Gloss"  of  all  flesh." 

3  Note  again  the  redundancy  of 
phrases  at  the  beginning  of  this 
verse,  "all  living  things,"  "all 
flesh,"  "of  all,"  again  pointing 
to  a  combination  of  a  number  of 
sources. 

4  The  Greek  translation  omits 
the  words  "of  cattle  according  to 
its  kind,"  but  adds  at  the  close  of 


APPENDIX 


355 


the  phrase  once  more  "male  and 
female  shall  they  be."  Such  vari- 
ations point  to  considerable  manip- 
ulation of  the  text. 

5  Again  a  redundant  phrase. 

(2)  The  entry  into  the  ark  and  the  duration  of  the 
Deluge. 


j 

Gen.  7  :  7,  10, 12, 16b,  18,  23 : 
"And  Noah  and  his  sons  and 
his  wife  and  the  wives  of  his 
sons  with  him  entered  the  ark 
because  of  the  waters  of  the 
flood.1  (And  Yahweh  shut  him 
in.2)  And  after  seven  days  (the 
waters  of  the  flood  were  on 
the  earth  and)  the  rain3  was  on 
the  earth  for  forty  days  and 
forty  nights.  And  the  waters 
prevailed  and  increased  ex- 
ceedingly upon  the  earth,  but 
the  ark  moved  upon  the  face 
of  the  waters  and  (Yahweh) 
blotted  out  all  creatures  which 
were  on  the  face  of  the  earth.4 
And  Noah  alone  was  left  alive 
and  those  with  him  in  the  ark." 

1  Vss.  8  and  9  are  again  later  ad- 
ditions to  J  to  bring  about  a  con- 
formity between  the  two  docu- 
ments. They  read  as  follows: 
"Of  clean  cattle  and  of  cattle  not 
clean  and  of  birds  and  all  that 
creepeth  on  the  ground,  in  pairs 
they  came  to  Noah  into  the  ark, 
male  and  female,  as  Elohim  had 
commanded  Noah."  The  state- 
ment that  they  came  in  pairs 
agrees  with  P,  but  is  against  J, 
which  says  distinctly  in  the  case 
of  clean  beasts  that  there  were 
seven  pairs  and  of   unclean   two. 


Gen.  7:6,  11,  13-160,  17, 
19-22,  24: 

"And  Noah  was  six  hundred 
years  old  when  the  flood  of 
waters  came  over  the  earth. 
In  the  six-hundredth  year  of 
the  life  of  Noah,  in  the  second 
month  on  the  seventeenth  day 
of  the  month,  on  that  day  all 
the  fountains  of  the  great  deep 
were  broken  up  and  the  win- 
dows of  heaven  opened.  On 
that  very  day  Noah  and  (Shem 
and  Ham  and  Japheth),1  the 
sons  of  Noah  and  the  wife  of 
Noah  and  the  three  wives  of  his 
sons  with  them  entered  the 
ark.  They  and  every  beast 
after  its  kind,  and  all  cattle 
after  their  kind  and  every 
creeping  thing  that  creeps  upon 
the  earth  after  its  kind,  and 
every  bird  after  its  kind.2  And 
they  came  in  unto  Noah  into 
the  ark  in  pairs,  of  all  flesh  that 
had  in  it  the  breath  of  life; 
and  those  entering  were  male 
and  female  of  all  flesh  that 
went  in,  as  Elohim  commanded 
him."3 

("And  the  flood  was  forty 
days  on  the  earth).4  And 
the  waters  increased  and  lifted 


356 


APPENDIX 


The  use,  moreover,  of  the  words 
male  and  female,  as  in  P,  against 
man  and  his  wife,  which  is  charac- 
teristic of  J,  shows  that  vss.  8  and  9 
did  not  belong  originally  to  the  J 
document.  On  the  other  hand, 
since  we  have,  in  vss.  14  and  15, 
P's  description  of  the  entrance  of 
the  animals  into  the  ark,  we  must 
assume  that  vss.  8  and  9  represent 
a  third  version — perhaps  one  allied 
to  the  Elohist  document,  but  which 
was  inserted  by  some  redactor  into 
J  or  added  to  P,  though  this  is  less 
likely. 

2  This  statement,  corresponding 
to  the  statement  in  the  Babylonian 
versions  of  Utnapishtim's  "closing 
the  door"  after  entering  the  boat, 
now  stands  at  the  end  of  vs.  16, 
at  the  close  of  P's  description  of 
the  entrance  into  the  ark.  Its 
original  place  in  J  is,  however,  after 
vs.  7,  the  transfer  being  due  to  the 
combination  of  P  with  J. 

3  The  word  for  rain  (geshem)  is 
the  term  characteristic  of  the  Yah- 
wist  version.  The  P  document 
speaks  of  a  flood  (mabbul)  which 
continues  for  150  days  and  causes 
a  rise  of  the  waters  to  15  cubits  and 
upward.  According  to  J,  the  Del- 
uge is  a  violent  storm  of  40  days' 
duration,  but  the  compiler  of  P  and 
J  has  thrown  the  two  terms  "flood" 
and  "rain"  together  as  synonyms. 
Hence  he  introduces  the  term 
"flood"  (mabbul)  also  into  J,  vss. 
7  and  10.  The  redundancy  of  the 
style  points  to  a  combination  of 
various  sources. 

4 Amplifying  addition,  "From 
man  to  cattle,  to  creeping  things 
and  the  birds  of  heaven,  and  they 
were  blotted  out  from  the  earth," 
to  conform  to  the  addition  in  Gen. 
6  :  7.     See  above,  p.  350,  note  2. 


the  ark  which  (thus)  rose  above 
the  earth.  And  the  waters 
continued  to  prevail  exceed- 
ingly upon  the  earth  until  all 
the  high  mountains  under  the 
heavens5  were  covered.  Up- 
wards of  fifteen  cubits  did  the 
waters  prevail,6  and  all  flesh 
perished.7  All  that  had  the 
breath  of  life  in  its  nostrils,  all 
that  were  on  the  dry  land  died.8 
And  the  waters  prevailed  upon 
the  earth  for  one  hundred  and 
fifty  days." 

1  The  names  in  this  passage  may 
be  a  subsequent  addition  taken 
over  from  Gen.  6  :  10. 

2  Two  explanatory  glosses  are 
added,  (1)  every  bird,  (2)  every 
winged  thing.  The  Greek  trans- 
lation omits  the  second  gloss. 

3  The  construction  in  vs.  16  is 
exceedingly  awkward,  and  since  it 
is  a  repetition  of  what  has  already 
been  said  in  vs.  15,  it  furnishes 
another  piece  of  evidence  that  P  is 
a  combination  of  several  sources. 

4  The  first  part  of  the  verse  is  a 
repetition  (taken  from  J)  to  con- 
nect the  second  account  of  the  en- 
trance into  the  ark  with  the  begin- 
ning of  the  Deluge.  The  omission 
of  "forty  nights"  (which  the  Greek 
translation,  however,  adds)  shows 
that  the  words  are  merely  added  as 
a  necessary  link  to  what  follows. 

5  The  tops  of  the  mountains  ac- 
cording to  the  view  prevailing  in 
antiquity  reached  to  the  heavens; 
these  tops  are,  therefore,  directly 
"under"  the  heavens. 

6  Repetition,  "and  the  mountains 
were  covered." 

7  Addition,  "that  creepeth  on  the 
ground,  of  bird,  of  cattle,  and  of 


APPENDIX 


357 


beast  and  of  all  that  swarms  on 
the  earth  and  all  mankind." 

8  Note  again  the  redundancy, 
pointing  to  the  composite  charac- 
ter of  the  P  account. 

(3)  The  receding  of  the  waters  and  the  departure  from 
the  ark. 


Gen.  8  :  2b,  30,  6,  8-12,  13&, 
18: 

"And  the  rain  was  restrained 
from  heaven  and  the  waters  re- 
ceded gradually  from  the  earth. 
And  after  forty  days  Noah 
opened  a  window1  of  the  ark 
which  he  had  made.2  And  he 
sent  forth  a  dove  to  see  if  the 
waters  were  abated  from  off 
the  face  of  the  ground,  but  the 
dove  found  no  rest  for  the  sole 
of  her  foot  and  she  returned 
unto  him  to  the  ark,  for  the 
waters  were  on  the  face  of  the 
whole  earth;  and  Noah  put 
forth  his  hand  and  took  her 
and  brought  her  back  unto  him 
into  the  ark.  Then  he  stayed 
yet  other  seven  days  and  again 
sent  forth  the  dove  out  of  the 
ark,  and  the  dove  returned  unto 
him  at  eventide  with  a  freshly 
plucked  olive  leaf  in  her  mouth. 
So  Noah  knew  that  the  waters 
were  abated  from  ofFthe  earth. 
Then  he  stayed  yet  other  seven 
days  and  sent  forth  the  dove, 
which  did  not  again  return  unto 
him.  Then  Noah  removed  the 
covering  of  the  ark  and  saw 
that  the  face  of  the  ground  was 
dried.     And  Noah  and  his  sons 


Gen.  8  :  i-2a,  36,  4-5,  13a, 
14-17,  19: 

"And  Elohim  remembered 
Noah  and  all  the  beasts  and 
all  the  cattle  that  were  with 
him  in  the  ark,  and  Elohim 
made  a  wind  to  pass  over  the 
earth  to  dry  the  waters.  And 
the  fountains  of  the  deep  and 
the  windows  of  heaven  were 
stopped.  And  the  waters  de- 
creased after  one  hundred  and 
fifty  days.  Then  on  the  seven- 
teenth day  of  the  seventh 
month  the  ark  rested,  on  the 
mountains  of  Ararat.  And  the 
waters  continued  to  decrease 
until  on  the  first  day  of  the 
tenth  month  the  tops  of  the 
mountains  were  seen. 

"And  it  was  in  the  six  hun- 
dred and  first  year,  on  the  first 
of  the  first  month,  that  the  wa- 
ters were  dried  up  from  off  the 
earth.  And  on  the  twenty-sev- 
enth day  of  the  second  month 
the  earth  was  dry.  And  Elo- 
him said  to  Noah  as  follows: 
'Go  forth  out  of  the  ark,  thou 
and  thy  wife  and  thy  sons  and 
the  wives  of  thy  sons  with  thee, 
every  living  creature  that  is  with 
thee,1  of  birds,  of  cattle,  of  every- 


358 


APPENDIX 


and  his  wife  and  the  wives  of 
his  sons  went  forth." 

1  The  "window"  in  J  corresponds 
to  the  "door"  (Gen.  6  :  16)  in  the 
combined  narrative,  which  shows 
that  the  latter  term  belongs  to  the 
other  document. 

2  A  later  insertion  in  J  (vs.  7) 
reads  as  follows:  "And  he  sent 
away  the  raven  which  went  forth 
hither  and  thither  until  the  waters 
were  dried  up  from  off  the  earth." 
See  the  explanation  for  this  addi- 
tion on  p.  361. 


thing  that  creeps  on  the  earth 
bring  forth  with  thee  that  they 
may  swarm  in  the  earth  and  be 
fruitful  and  multiply  upon  the 
earth.'2  Every  beast,  every 
creeping  thing  and  every  bird, 
everything  that  creeps  upon  the 
earth  after  their  species,3  went 
forth  out  of  the  ark." 4 

1  Gloss  of  all  flesh.' 

2  This  verse  again  forms  a  good 
illustration  of  the  composite  char- 
acter of  the  P  document,  which 
becomes  redundant  because  of  the 
combination  in  it  of  at  least  two 
sources. 

3  Literally,  "their  families." 

4  This  entire  verse,  with  its  awk- 
ward construction  and  its  repeti- 
tion of  "creeping  things,"  may  be  a 
later  insertion.  It  is  certainly  su- 
perfluous. 


(4)  The    declaration  that  there  will  not  be   another 
Deluge. 


j 

Gen.  8  :  20-22: 

"And  Noah  built  an  altar 
unto  Yahweh,  and  took  of  every 
clean  beast  and  of  every  clean 
bird  and  offered  burnt  offerings 
on  the  altar.  When  Yahweh 
smelt  the  sweet  savour,  Yah- 
weh said  in  his  heart:  'I  will  not 
again  curse  the  ground  for  the 
sake  of  man,  for  the  inclination 
of  the  heart  of  man  is  evil  from 
his  youth,  and  I  will  not  again 
smite  all  living  creatures  as  I 
have  done.  While  the  earth 
remaineth,  seed-time  and  har- 
vest, cold  and  heat,  summer  and 


Gen.    9  :  8-1 1:1 

"And  Elohim  spoke  to  Noah 
and  his  sons  with  him  saying: 
'I  have  established  my  cove- 
nant with  thee  and  with  your 
seed  after  you  and  with  every 
living  creature  that  is  with  you, 
of  birds,  of  cattle,  and  of  every 
beast  of  the  earth  with  you,  all 
that  have  gone  out  of  the  ark.2 
And  I  will  establish  my  cove- 
nant with  you  that  all  flesh 
shall  not  again  be  cut  off3  (by 
the  waters  of  the  flood  and 
there  shall  not  again  be  a  flood 
to  destroy  the  earth).4'" 


APPENDIX  359 

winter,    day    and    night    shall  *  The  P  document  does  not  con- 

not  cease.'"  ta*n  any  account  of  Noah's  sacri- 

fice, presumably  because  it  was 
identical  with  that  in  the  other 
document.  It  is,  of  course,  pos- 
sible also  that  some  of  the  phrases 
in  J's  account  belong  to  P. 

The  first  seven  verses  of  chapter 
9  have  nothing  to  do  with  the 
Deluge.  They  embody  a  blessing 
of  Elohim  upon  Noah  and  his  sons 
and  certain  precautions  regarding 
the  enlargement  of  man's  diet  by 
permitting  him  to  eat  the  flesh  of 
animals  and  not  merely  herbs  and 
vegetables  as  in  the  case  of  Adam 
(Gen.  I  :  29);  and  adds  certain 
precautions  regarding  the  eating  of 
blood,  which  was  to  be  prohibited. 

2  The  text  adds  redundantly 
"every  living  creature  of  the 
earth,"  which  the  Greek  transla- 
tion properly  omits. 

3  The  declaration  ended  here. 
The  remainder  of  the  verse  (lib)  is 
a  subsequent  addition,  marked 
again  by  a  redundancy  of  expres- 
sion. 

4  Vss.  12-17,  forming  the  closing 
episode  of  the  Deluge,  represent  a 
second  address  of  Elohim,  convey- 
ing the  impressive  explanation  of 
the  rainbow  after  a  storm  as  a  sign 
of  God's  covenant. 


IV 

If  we  now  compare  the  two  biblical  accounts  with  the 
main  Babylonian  version,  which  alone  is  sufficiently  well 
preserved  to  admit  of  a  comparison,  it  will  be  seen  that 
the  Yahwist  document  bears  more  resemblance  to  the 
tale  in  the  Gilgamesh  Epic  than  does  the  other  document. 
Indeed,  if  we  only  had  the  version  of  the  Priestly  Code 
before  us,  with  its  bare  statement  of  a  complete  destruc- 


360  APPENDIX 

tion  of  all  life  on  earth,  a  stay  of  one  year  in  the  ark, 
and  the  escape  of  a  favourite  individual  and  his  family 
in  a  ship,  it  might  not  be  regarded  as  sufficient  to  assume 
a  direct  relationship  to  the  Babylonian  narrative.  The 
numerous  traditions  of  a  Deluge  known  to  us  are  by  no 
means  related,  even  when  we  can  detect  points  of  resem- 
blance. Professor  Usener,  e.  g.,1  questions  whether  the 
Greek  tale  of  Deukalion  is  dependent  upon  Babylonian 
traditions,  despite  the  fact  that  the  hero  escapes  a  gen- 
eral destruction  of  mankind  by  taking  refuge  with  his 
wife,  Pyrrha,  in  an  ark  constructed  by  him  on  the  advice 
of  his  father  Prometheus,  who  as  the  benefactor  of  hu- 
manity reminds  us  forcibly  of  the  role  played  by  the 
god  Ea  in  Babylonian  mythology.  If,  however,  we  turn 
to  the  Yahwist  version  with  its  moderate  figures,  with 
its  emphasis  on  the  number  seven,  the  sending  out  of  a 
dove  three  times,  and  the  making  of  an  offering  upon 
leaving  the  ark,  the  parallels  to  the  Babylonian  counter- 
part are  too  numerous  and  too  close  to  be  accidental; 
and  this,  notwithstanding  that  in  the  Babylonian  tradi- 
tion the  storm  lasts  only  six  or  seven  days  as  against 
forty  in  the  Yahwist  document,  and  that  instead  of  a 
dove  sent  out  three  times,  we  have  in  the  Gilgamesh  Epic 
three  different  birds,  and  also  that  in  Genesis  we  have 
an  ark2  instead  of  a  ship.  Such  variations  are  just  of  the 
kind  that  will  arise  in  the  case  of  traditions  which  start 
from  a  common  source,  but  then  develop  independently 
of  each  other.  That  is  the  assumption  upon  which  we 
have  proceeded  throughout  this  investigation  of  the  He- 

1  Sintfiutsagen,  pp.  3 1  seq.  The  case  is  different  with  the  form  given 
to  the  tale  in  Lucian,  De  Dea  Syria,  12  seq.,  which  Usener  shows  is  a 
combination  of  the  Greek  and  Babylonian  tales,  localised  at  a  sanctuary 
in  Syria. 

2  Tebah — literally  "box"  used  only  in  the  Deluge  story  and  in  the 
narrative  of  Moses  (Ex.  2  :  3-5).  The  Hebrew  tradition  recalled  the 
peculiar  character  of  the  construction  on  which  Noah  takes  refuge  and, 
therefore,  with  intent  avoided  the  term  ship.  It  will  be  recalled  that  in 
the  Babylonian  versions  the  boat  is  also  called  a  "palace." 


APPENDIX  361 

brew  and  Babylonian  traditions.  The  mere  existence  of 
two  or  more  versions  among  the  Hebrews  is  sufficient 
to  attest  the  antiquity  of  the  tradition  itself  as  well  as 
its  popularity  among  the  Hebrews.  So,  e.  g.,  the  dis- 
tinction between  clean  and  unclean  animals  is  a  touch 
inserted  into  the  Yahwist  version  at  a  time  when  the 
taboo  on  certain  animals  regarded  as  unclean  as  set  forth 
in  Deuteronomy,  chapter  14,  and  Leviticus,  chapter  11, 
was  in  force.1  The  little  insertion  about  the  raven  who 
is  immediately  dismissed2 — not  sent  forth  as  a  messenger — 
is  also  added  with  intent,  for  the  raven  is  specifically  enu- 
merated among  the  unclean  animals  (Lev.  11  :  14).  Some 
pious  redactor,  aware  presumably  of  the  part  played  by 
the  raven  in  the  Babylonian  tale,3  where  it  is  given  the 
distinction  of  furnishing  the  sign  that  the  waters  had 
dried,  inserted  this  gloss  as  a  tribute  to  Noah's  piety, 
who,  becoming  a  type  of  an  observant  Jew,  is  thus  pic- 
tured as  getting  rid  of  the  unclean,  and  therefore  obnox- 
ious, bird  at  the  first  opportunity.4 

Significant  in  the  biblical  version  is  also  the  delocalisa- 
tion  of  the  story.     In  the  main  Babylonian  version  the 

1  It  is  not,  of  course,  necessary  to  assume  that  the  laws  were  as  ex- 
plicit and  as  detailed  as  set  forth  in  the  Pentateuch.  The  chapters  in 
Deuteronomy  and  Leviticus  betray  evidence  of  a  gradual  expansion 
from  some  very  simple  distinctions  between  clean  and  unclean  animals. 
See  above,  p.  165,  note  1,  for  the  author's  view  of  the  regulations  in  the 
Priestly  Code,  many  of  which  have  all  the  earmarks  of  a  high  antiquity. 

2  Gen.  8  :  7.     See  above,  p.  358,  note  2. 

3  We  must  beware  of  the  error  of  assuming  that  the  Hebrews— at  all 
events  in  exilic  and  postexilic  days— were  ignorant  of  Babylonian-Assyr- 
ian literature.  The  fourteenth  chapter  of  Genesis  is  not  improbably 
based  in  part  on  some  cuneiform  sources  that  the  Hebrew  compiler  had 
before  him.  See  above,  p.  13,  though  we  must  not  go  as  far  as  to 
assume  the  chapter  to  be  a  translation  of  a  cuneiform  historical  docu- 
ment. The  late  Professor  D.  H.  Miiller  in  his  Ezechiel-Studien,  pp.  56 
seq.,  has  also  made  it  probable  that  Ezekiel  made  use  of  cuneiform 
literature  to  a  certain  extent. 

4  Midrashic  tales  about  the  raven  emphasise  this  point  of  the  raven 
which,  as  an  unclean  animal,  is  represented  as  being  hated  by  God 
as  well  as  by  Noah.     See  Ginzberg,  Legends  of  the  Jews,  I,  pp.  163-4. 


362  APPENDIX 

Deluge  centres  around  Shuruppak  and  thus  betrays  its 
local  origin.  In  Berosus,  who  hands  down  the  Atrakhasis 
version,  it  starts  at  Sippar.  Other  versions  may  be  found 
which  will  name  other  centres.  The  annual  overflow 
takes  place  throughout  the  Euphrates  Valley,  and  so  every 
large  centre  could  have  its  Deluge  story,  as  it  had  its 
Creation  myth.  The  biblical  outlook  is  far  wider — upon 
mankind  in  general  in  the  Yahwist  document  and  upon 
the  entire  earth  in  the  Priestly  Code.  The  occurrence  in 
nature  is  entirely  kept  out  of  view  in  both.  The  biblical 
Deluge  is  no  longer  a  magnified  natural  event,  but  a  special 
act  of  the  Almighty,  comparable  in  grandeur  to  the  process 
of  Creation.  God  himself  is  about  to  destroy  what  He 
has  brought  into  being.  The  Hebrew  point  of  view  does 
not  even  hesitate  to  represent  God  as  regretting  the  crea- 
tion of  man,  so  supreme  is  the  ethical  motive  that  has 
been  infused  into  the  old  nature-myth,  and  which  accounts 
for  the  features  that  separate  it  so  completely  from  the 
Babylonian  counterpart  from  which  at  one  time  it  could 
hardly  have  been  distinguished. 

The  absolute  sway  of  ethical  ideals  is  to  be  illustrated 
by  an  awful  example.  The  world,  made  by  God  for  the 
sake  of  man,  has  failed  to  be  guided  by  the  dictates  of 
righteousness.  The  principle  of  justice  is  carried  still 
further  in  the  Priestly  Code  which  assumes  that  the 
whole  earth  and  not  merely  man  is  corrupt.1  To  be  sure, 
a  discordant  pessimistic  note  is  sounded  at  the  close2  that 
it  is  not  worth  while  to  destroy  the  world  for  man's  sake 
because  man's  inclination  is  towards  evil.  Wickedness  is 
inherent  in  man,  but  this  sad  admission  is  merely  an 
evidence  of  the  desperate  dilemma  with  which  the  pious 
Jew  of  later  days  found  himself  confronted,  when  brought 
face  to  face  with  the  question  why  a  God  of  justice  allows 

1  The  Midrash,  taking  up  this  thought,  says  (Ginzberg,  ib.,  I,  p.  160) 
that  the  animals  were  as  wicked  as  men. 

2  By  the  Yahwist.     See  above,  pp.  102  seq. 


APPENDIX  363 

wickedness  to  reign  in  the  world.  The  example,  however, 
was  furnished  at  one  time  that  if  wickedness  passes  be- 
yond a  certain  level,  God  does  not  hesitate  to  undo  His 
own  handiwork. 

Fiat  justitia,  et  per  eat  mundus!  It  is  as  an  illustration 
of  this  doctrine  that  the  old  nature-myth  is  retained — 
delocalised,  stripped  of  all  suggestions  of  its  association 
with  the  annual  change  of  seasons,  with  touches  added  to 
it  that  make  it  conform  to  specific  Hebrew  regulations  such 
as  the  distinction  between  clean  and  unclean  animals. 
The  myth  becomes  a  parable,  the  force  of  which  is  height- 
ened by  the  poetic  subscript  to  the  tale1 — the  interpre- 
tation of  the  rainbow  as  the  symbol  of  God's  covenant 
with  the  righteous.  Noah — however  we  explain  the  ori- 
gin of  the  name2 — is  a  type.  As  such  he  is  regarded  by 
the  Prophet  Ezekiel  by  the  side  of  Daniel  and  Job  3  who 
are  likewise  merely  types  and  not  real  personages. 

In  the  Babylonian  tale  Utnapishtim,  Atrakhasis,  and 
Ziugiddu  are  saved  because  they  are  favourites.  Of 
Ziugiddu,  to  be  sure,  it  is  said  that  he  was  a  reverent  wor- 
shipper of  the  gods,  but  the  implication  is  not  of  an  es- 
sentially ethical  character.  The  pious  here  is  he  who 
brings  sacrifices  to  the  gods  and  carries  out  prescribed 
rites.  The  biblical  story  furnishes  the  crumb  of  comfort 
for  the  pious  members  of  the  postexilic  Jewish  commu- 
nity, the  "poor"  and  humble  ones  of  the  Psalms,4  that 
even  in  a  universal  destruction  the  righteous  need  not 
fear.  He  will  find  favour  in  the  eyes  of  God,  as  did 
Noah.  The  waters  that  engulf  the  world  will  not  touch  him. 
The  ark  in  which  he  finds  refuge  will  rise  on  the  waters, 
even  though  the  waters  mount  above  the  highest  peaks. 


^en.  9  :  12-17. 

2  The  explanation  of  the  name,  Gen.  5  :  29,  as  the  one  who  "will  com- 
fort us,"  rests  on  assonance  and  is  not  a  genuine  etymology  of  the  name. 
The  explanation  is  in  the  style  of  the  Jewish  Midrash. 

3  Ezek.  14  :  14,  20.  4  See  above,  p.  241. 


364  APPENDIX 

Not  only  is  the  righteous  saved,  but  he  also  saves  the 
world.  Because  of  Noah,  Yahweh  makes  a  covenant  not 
to  destroy  the  world  again.  He  sets  the  rainbow  in  the 
sky,  which  will  appear  even  while  the  rain  pours  and  the 
storm  rages  as  an  assurance  that  Yahweh  will  remem- 
ber Noah,  the  righteous  man,  and  for  Noah's  sake  re- 
strain his  anger  at  the  ineradicable  wickedness  of  man. 
The  pessimistic  note  is  thus  changed  into  one  which,  though 
still  in  the  minor  key,  yet  is  relieved  somewhat  of  its 
hopeless  outlook.  If  only  ten  righteous  be  found,  Abra- 
ham is  assured,1  Sodom  and  Gomorrah  will  be  saved  be- 
cause of  the  righteous.  The  biblical  Deluge  story  thus 
becomes  another  powerful  sermon  like  the  story  of  the 
Fall,2  emphasising  the  central  lesson  of  the  Hebrew  Proph- 
ets— obedience  to  divine  behests,  even  as  Noah  obeyed, 
and  setting  up  righteousness  as  the  supreme  goal  of  life, 
even  as  Noah  was  righteous.  It  is  a  sermon  that  illus- 
trates also  the  two  aspects  of  the  Hebrew  faith  in  the 
postexilic  period  when  the  early  narratives  in  Genesis 
received  their  definite  shape,  on  the  one  hand,  the  attach- 
ment to  the  aims  of  the  Prophets  on  the  part  of  the 
minority  of  the  community,  who,  resigned  to  their  hum- 
ble position  by  virtue  of  their  unworldly  ambitions,  sadly 
realised  the  lesson  of  Job — that  the  good  often  suffer  while 
the  ungodly  flourish.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  while  not 
closing  their  eyes  to  the  fact  that  man's  inclination  is 
towards  wickedness,  and  that  as  it  had  been  before  the 
Deluge  so  it  was  after  the  Deluge,  and  perhaps  will  long 
continue  to  be,  they  comforted  themselves  with  the  re- 
flection that  it  is  the  righteous  who  will  eventually  save 
the  world. 

Recognising  unreservedly  the  common  origin  of  the 
Babylonian  and  biblical  traditions  of  the  Deluge — as  a 
nature-myth  picturing  the  annual  change,  and  based  per- 
haps  on   a   recollection   of  some   particularly  disastrous 

1  Gen.  18:32.  2  Above,  p.  61. 


APPENDIX  365 

season,1  the  tradition  gives  rise  among  both  Babylonians 
and  Hebrews  to  various  versions,  differing  from  one  an- 
other in  details.  The  development  proceeds  along  inde- 
pendent lines  among  the  Hebrews  from  a  certain  time  on, 
and  under  the  influence  of  the  teachings  of  the  Prophets 
the  emphasis  comes  to  be  laid  on  the  wickedness  of  man 
and  the  corruption  of  the  earth  as  the  cause  of  the  catas- 
trophe, and  on  the  righteousness  of  Noah  as  the  reason  for 
his  escape.  The  story  is  retained  like  the  Creation  tale, 
because  of  its  popularity,  but  is  completely  transformed 
in  the  long  process  which  changed  a  nature-myth  into 
an  ethical  parable.  It  received  its  final  shape  well  along 
in  the  postexilic  period,  and  was  made  the  medium  of  im- 
pressing upon  the  people  the  underlying  principles  of 
Prophetical  Judaism. 

1 1  do  not  believe,  however,  that  the  Babylonian  or  biblical  Deluge 
recalls  a  violent  geologic  subversion  in  the  region  of  the  Persian  Gulf 
in  prehistoric  days,  as  Eduard  Suess,  Die  Sinflut  (1884),  would  have  us 
suppose.  It  is  most  unlikely  that  people  living  many,  many  thousands 
of  years  after  such  an  event  should  have  any  recollection  of  it,  however 
dimmed.  The  localisation  of  the  Deluge  in  the  Babylonian  versions  to 
which  the  biblical  accounts,  as  we  have  seen,  revert,  is  a  sufficient  ar- 
gument against  such  a  proposition. 


INDEX 


Aaron,  sons  of,  169. 

Abaddon,  a  name  for  the  lower 
world,  107. 

Abel,  309. 

Abraham,  7,  13,  14,  42,  228,  366. 

Abu  Shahrain,  site  of  ancient  city 
of  Eridu,  321. 

abubu  =  cyclone,  339,  343. 

Abydenus,  346. 

Adab,  an  ancient  city  in  the 
Euphrates  Valley,  337. 

Adad,  a  storm-god,  263  seq.,  330, 
342  seq. 

Adam,  52,  348,  361. 

Adapa  legend,  47  seq. 

Agade,  capital  of  Sargon's  King- 
dom, 12. 

Agriculture,  167,  309,  311;  gods 
of,  28,  163,  178.  (See  also 
Festivals.) 

Ahab,  71. 

Akitu  (New  Year's  festival),  138. 

Akkad,  20. 

Akkadians  (the  Semites  of  Baby- 
lonia), 8. 

Alala  (deity),  71. 

Alexander  Polyhistor,  85,  346. 

Alexandria,  299. 

All  Saints',  147. 

Amarna  Letters,  47,  353. 

A-Mz-Ru  =  abubu  (cyclone),  339. 

Ammisaduka,  King  of  Babylonia, 

341. 

Ammonites,  a  people  of  Palestine, 

34,  176,  178,  227. 
Amorites,  16. 
Amos,  227,  283  seq.,  288. 
Amraphel  =  Hammurapi,  13  seq. 
Amurru  (land  of  the  West),  7,  9. 
An  (Heaven),  70,  74. 
Ancestor-worship,  200  seq. 
Andree,  W.,  323. 
Anger  of  deities,  292. 


'ant  (meek),  315. 

Animals,  creation  of,  92  seq.,  120. 

Animism,    26   seq.,    32,    142,    177, 

200,  282. 
Anonymity,  285. 
An-shar  (deity),  69,  71,  74. 
An-shar-gal  (deity),  70. 
Antiochus  Soter,  346. 
Antum,  consort  of  the  god  Anu, 

70  seq. 
Anu,  god  of  Uruk,  who  becomes 
the  god  of  heaven,  67,  69,  70, 
74,  95  seq.,  259,  260,  326,  331, 
333,  337,  339  seq. 
Anum  =  Anu,  70  seq. 
Anunnaki,    spirits    of    earth,    91, 

258,  330  seq. 
Apocalypse  of  Baruch,   245,   247 

seq. 
Apocalyptic  writings,  246. 
Apsu,  personification  of  the  watery 

deep,  69,  72/^.,  74,  in. 
Arabia,  9,  15,  147. 
Aralu,  Babylonian  name  of  lower 
world,    197   seq.,    203    seq.,    205 
seq.,   210,   219,  222,   235;  Pan- 
theon of,  202.     (See  also  Lower 
World;  Sheol;  Hell.) 
Ararat  (mount),  349,  355. 
Ark  of  Covenant,  180. 
Ark,  of  Noah,  348,  351,  353  seq., 
362  seq.;  of  Xisuthros,  327,  347 
seq.    (See  also  Ship.) 
arkhu  Til  (la)  (25th  day  of  month), 

138. 
Armenia,  348  seq. 
Aruru,  goddess  who  creates  man- 
kind, 91  seq. 
Asari,  as  title  of  Marduk,  87. 
Asari-alim,    as    title   of    Marduk, 

87. 
Asari-alim-nunna,  as  title  of  Mar- 
duk, 87. 
367 


368 


INDEX 


Asherah,   symbol    in   Canaanitish 

cult,  31,  182,  183. 
Ashurbanapal,    King    of    Assyria, 

68,  276,  323,  326,  344,  346. 
Assumption  of  Moses,  245. 
Assyria  as  warlike  nation,  267  seq., 

277. 
Astral  theology,  71,  1 19  seq.,  143, 

200,  264. 
Astral  worship,  32. 
Astrology,    32,    81   seq.,    139,    141 

seq.,  154,  171,  266  seq. 
Astronomy,  144,  160. 
Asushu-namir     (created    by    the 

god  Ea),  208. 
Atonement,  29 1  seq. ;  day  of ,  1 7 1  seq. 
Atrakhasis,  hero  of  the  Babylonian 

Deluge,  326  seq.,  334,  341,  344 

seq.,  346  seq.,  354,  364,  365. 
Atrakhasis  version  of  Deluge,  341 

seq. 
Auspicious  days,  see  Days. 
Authorship,  285  seq. 

Baal,  28,  179,  182. 

Babylonia,  influence  on  Palestine, 
19,  32,  193;  as  early  home  of 
Hebrews,  5  seq.,  21  seq.;  po- 
lygamy in,  273  seq.;  warlike  pro- 
clivities, 267  seq.,  277. 

Babylonian-Assyrian  civilisation, 
see  Euphratean  Culture. 

Bad-nagar-dish  (city),  96. 

bamoth  (high  places),  29. 

Banks,  E.  J.,  337. 

Baptism,  146. 

Barton,  George  A.,  236,  237,  308. 

bdru  (diviner),  150. 

Barzilai,  55. 

Bathsheba,  311. 

Beatitudes,  315. 

Beer-Sheba,  27. 

Behemoth    (monstrous    creature), 

"5- 

Belili  (goddess),  71. 

Ben  Sira,  237  seq. 

Berosus,  68,  73  seq.,  85  seq.,  100, 
129,  327,  336,  338;  version  of 
Deluge,  346  seq.,  354,  364. 

Bethel,  24,  310. 

Birth,  146. 

Birth-omens,  141,  266. 

Bismya,  site  of  ancient  city  of 
Adab,  337. 


Black-headed  people,  341. 

Blood,  as  source  of  life,  129;  eat- 
ing of,  prohibited,  361;  in  crea- 
tion of  man,  84  seq.,  128  seq. 

Boat,  see  Ship;  Ark. 

Booths,  festival  of,  158  seq. 

Bosheth,  disguised  form  for  Baal, 
29. 

bubbulu  (disappearance  of  moon), 

135- 

Budde,  Karl,  179,  232. 
Bull,  divine,  324. 
Burial,  197  seq.,  213,  223. 
Burning  bush,  169. 

Cain,  309. 

Calendar,  82,  119,  159,  355. 

Canaanites,  influence  on  Hebrews, 

28,  31  seq.,  182. 
Canals,  214,  264,  322. 
Cassites,  268. 
Chaos,  72,  83. 
Charles,  R.  H.,  245,  248. 
Child  sacrifice,  182. 
Christ,  249  seq. 
Christianity,  43,  193,  248  seq.,  314 

seq. 
Christmas,  146. 
Circumcision,  146. 
Cities,  founding  of,  89  seq. 
Clay,  A.  T.,  10,  16. 
Clean  and  unclean,  44. 
Clean  and  unclean  animals,  363, 

365. 
Coblenz,  238. 

Code  of  Hammurapi,  271  seq. 
Commerce,  167,  228,  269,  271  seq., 

307,  3°9- 

Concubines,  273. 

Confirmation,  146. 

Confusion  of  languages,  6. 

Consciousness  after  death,  196  seq., 
212. 

Cory,  I.  P.,  73,  85,  327,  336,  346. 

Creation,  Babylonian-Assyrian  ac- 
counts, 7,  21  seq.,  37  seq.,  68  seq., 
89  seq.,  95  seq.;  biblical  ac- 
counts, 24,  37  seq.,  60,  80,  98 
seq.,  116  seq.;  Hesiod's  theogony, 
70  seq. 

Creation  of  man,  83  seq.,  91,  100, 
104,  128  seq. 

Cremation,  198. 

Culture,  attitude  towards,  309  seq. 


INDEX 


369 


Cuneiform  writing,  9. 

Curtiss,  S.  I.,  27. 

Cyclone,  see  Deluge  and  abubu. 

Cyclops,  73. 

Cynicism,  234  seq. 

Cyrus,  230. 

Daniel,  243,  247,  365. 

Da-ur  (deity),  71. 

David,  162,  181,  281,  286,  310  seq. 

Day  of  assembly,  192. 

Day  of  atonement,  see  Atone- 
ment. 

Days,  lucky  and  unlucky,  150 
seq.,  162  seq.,  168  seq.,  173,  175, 
188. 

Dead,  care  of,  213. 

Death,  146,  324;  primitive  con- 
ceptions of,  196  seq.;  water  of, 
49  seq.\  waters  of,  334;  mystery 
of,  210  seq. 

Deborah,  Song  of,  176,  180. 

Decalogue,  original  form  of,  35, 
162  seq.,  184,  283;  date,  174. 

Deification,  201,  218. 

Deluge,  24,  37  seq.,  57,  96  seq., 
103,  210,  214  seq.,  219,  321  seq.; 
Atrakhasis  version,  341  seq.; 
Berosus's  account,  346  seq.; 
comparison  of  versions,  362 
seq.;  biblical  accounts,  350  seq.; 
Nippur  version,  336  seq.,  340  seq. 

Deluge  myth,  Babylonian  origin, 

323- 

Dembitz,  Lewis  N.,  148. 

Demons,  61,  200,  202  seq.,  205, 
207. 

Deukalion,  Greek  hero  of  the  Del- 
uge, 360. 

Deutero-Isaiah,  287. 

Deuteronomic  Code,  296  seq.,  310. 

Dispersion  of  mankind,  6,  56. 

Divination,  32,  139  seq.,  145  seq., 
202,  265  seq.  (See  also  As- 
trology; Hepatoscopy.) 

Diviners,  150,  154,  185. 

Doughty,  Charles,  148. 

Dove,  332,  355,  359,  362. 

Dragon,  95  seq.,  107,  109,  1 10, 
121,  26l. 

Dreams,  200,  216,  219,  347. 

Driver,  S.  R.,  106. 

Duhm,  B.,  in,  240,  287,  295,  306. 

Du-ur  (deity),  71. 


Ea,  god  of  water,  67,  117,  208, 
212,  215,  263  seq.,  321  seq.,  325 
seq.,  333,  33§  seq.,  342  seq.,  347 
seq.,  362. 

Ecclesiastes,  235  seq.,  278  seq., 
304  seq. 

Eden,  5,  100. 

Edom,  180. 

Egypt,  150,  299  seq.,  311. 

Elam,  209,  268,  323. 

Elephantine,  299  seq. 

Elihu,  234. 

Elijah,  123,  178,  181  seq.,  283. 

Elisha,  178,  181  seq.,  283. 

Ellil,  see  Enlil. 

Elohist,  353. 

Engidu,  friend  of  Gilgamesh,  209 
seq,  323  seq. 

Enki  =  Ea  (water  deity),  95  seq., 

337- 

Enkidu  =  Engidu. 

Enlil  (Ellil),  10,  67,  95  seq.,  117, 
216,  259,  seq.,  263  seq.,  326  seq., 
333  seq.,  339  seq. 

Enmasht  =  Ninib,  10. 

En-nugi  (deity),  326. 

Enoch,  book  of,  247  seq. 

En-ur-ul-la  (deity),  71. 

Erebos  (night),  72. 

Ereshkigal,  goddess  of  lower  world, 
203  seq. 

Eridu,  an  ancient  city  of  Baby- 
lonia, 48,  67,  321. 

Eros  (love),  72. 

E-Sagila  (temple),  90. 

Esau,  280. 

esherti  (tenth  day  of  month),  138. 

eshsheshu  (day  of  the  new-moon), 
138. 

Esther  =Ishtar,  161. 

Ether  (atmosphere),  72. 

Ethical  monotheism,  45  seq.,  130 
seq.,  187,  225,  252. 

Ethical  motives  of  Assyrian-Baby- 
lonian gods,  177. 

Ethical  spirit,  in  traditions,  18,  39, 
45  seq.,  61,  349  seq.,  364  seq.;  in 
laws,  42  seq.,  229. 

Ethics,  test  of,  254  seq. 

Etruscans,  divination,  140. 

Euphratean  culture,  compared 
with  Hebrew  culture,  1  seq.,  62; 
source  of,  8  seq. 

Euphrates,  5,  218,  322. 


370 


INDEX 


Euphrates  Valley  as  home  of  He- 
brews, 5  seq.,  21  seq. 

Eusebius,  327,  346. 

Evolution  in  traditions,  3  seq. 
(See  also  Transformation.) 

Ezekiel,  223,  288,  365. 

Exile,  186  seq.,  225  seq.,  241,  303. 

Exodus  from  Egypt,  33. 

Exorcism,  199. 

Expanse  of  heaven,  117. 

Faith,  308. 

Fall  of  man,  40,  52  seq.,  102. 

Family,  273. 

Fara,  site  of  ancient  city  of  Shu- 

ruppak,  326. 
Feast  of  Weeks,  155,  163. 
Festivals,     agricultural,     28,     156 

seq.,    163,    299;    "fixed,"    186; 

nomadic,  33;  of  spring,  157,  161; 

in  transition  periods,   146  seq.; 

of  winter  solstice,  146. 
Fire,  worship  of,  32;  as  sacred  ele- 
ment, 153,  169. 
Flesh,  eating  of,  361. 
Flood,  357  seq. 
Food  laws,  44. 
Fowler,  H.  T.,  325. 
Frazer,  J.  G.,  30,  51,  151,  183,  196, 

222. 
Full-moon,  138,  149^?.,  152,  173. 
Funeral  rites,  146. 

Gaia  (Earth),  70,  73. 

Galilee,  250. 

Garden  of  Eden,  see  Eden. 

Genealogy  of  gods,  69  seq. 

Gentiles,  246. 

geshem  (rain),  358. 

Gideon,  283. 

Gilgamesh,  Babylonian  hero,  85, 
101,  201,  209  seq.,  278  seq.,  307, 
323  seq. 

Ginzberg,  Louis,  14,  348,  364,  365. 

Gishzida,  agricultural  deity,  49,  5 1 . 

Gods,  of  agriculture,  163;  chthonic, 
203. 

Gomorrah,  366. 

Great  mother,  see  Mother-god- 
dess. 

Greeks,  chthonic  deities,  203; 
divination,  140,  145;  marriage 
custom,  163;  philosophy,  236, 
304. 


Gressmann,  Hugo,  25,  34,  47,  101, 
179,  204,  206,  209,  297,  323,  327. 

Gruppe,  Wilhelm,  163. 

Gudea,  ruler  of  Lagash,  17. 

Gunkel,  Hermann,  20,  98,  107, 
108,  no,  113,  114. 

Hag  (pilgrimage),  299. 

Ham,  354,  357. 

Hammurapi,    13    seq.,    260,    329, 

341;   law  code,   271   seq.     (See 

also  Amraphel.) 
Hannukah,  146. 
Haram     esh-Sherif,     mosque     in 

Jerusalem,  26. 
Haran,  7,  13,  14,  19  seq. 
Harper,  R.  F.,  260. 
Harper,  W.  R.,  29. 
Harvest,  see  Festivals. 
Hastings,  J.  S.,  31,  178. 
Haupt,  Paul,  161,  236,  326,  344. 
Heart,    136  seq.,   149;   as  seat  of 

intellect,  57,  352. 
Heaven,  248  seq.,  251. 
Hebrew   culture,    compared    with 

Euphratean  civilisation,  1  seq., 

62. 
Hebrews,  animism  among,  26  seq.; 

early   contact  with   Babylonia, 

14  seq.,  18,  21  seq.;  influenced  by 

Canaanites,    28    seq.,    31,    33; 

mixed  race,  62;  nomadic  period, 

33;  polygamy  among,  273  seq.; 

traditions  as  to  origin,  5  seq. 
Hehn,  Johannes,  132,  171. 
Heine,  Heinrich,  192. 
Hekatocheiron     (hundred-handed 

monster),  73. 
Hell,    249,    251    seq.       (See    also 

Aralu;  Lower  World;  Sheol.) 
Hemera  (day),  72. 
Henotheism,  264. 
Hepatoscopy,   139  seq.,   144,  266. 

(See    also    Divination;    Astrol- 
ogy.) 
Hera,  70. 
Herodotus,  323. 
Hesiod,  70,  72,  73. 
Hezekiah,  31. 
Hilprecht,  H.  V.,  343  seq. 
Hippopotamus,  1 15. 
Hittites,  11,  15. 
Homorka  =  Ummu-khubur,  74. 
Hosea,  284. 


INDEX 


371 


House,  staying  in,  i6gseq.,  191  seq. 
Humanitarian  regulations,  44. 
Humble,  see  Poor. 
Hymns,  penitential,  291  seq. 
Hymns  to  Shamash,  258  seq. 

lb  (deity),  70. 

ibbu  (clear),  138. 

Ides,  150. 

Igigi,    spirits   of   heaven,    87,    91, 

333- 

Ilabrat  (attendant  of  Anu),  48. 

Imageless  worship,  182  seq.,  282. 

Immortality,  211,  217,  220,  245, 
249,  252,  324  seq.,  335,  340. 

Incantation,  202. 

Incest,  274. 

Indenture,  274. 

Individualism,  238  seq.,  266. 

Innanna  (goddess),  336. 

Interest  (on  money),  167. 

Interment,  see  Burial. 

Ira,  god  of  pestilence,  330,  334. 

Irkallu,  name  of  lower  world,  206. 

Isaac,  228,  280. 

Isaiah,  ill,  113,  187,  223,  227, 
247,  284,  287,  289  seq. 

Ish-Bosheth  =  Ish-Baal,  29. 

Ishtar,  324,  331;  goddess  of  vege- 
tation, 143,  203,  206,  325,  332, 
337;  descent  to  Aralu,  206  seq., 
210. 

isinnu  (festival),  138. 

Islamism,  192. 

Island  of  the  Blest,  218. 

Jacob,  26,  228,  244,  280,  310. 

Japheth,  354,  357. 

Jastrow,  Morris,  Jr.,  6,  51  seq.,  61, 

102,    112,    119,    123,    137,    139 

seq.,    144,    148,    156,    166,    204, 

206,    209,    258    seq.,    266,    270, 

291,  323,  350. 
Jehovah,     265,     301     seq.        (See 

Yahweh.) 
Jeremiah,  227,  284,  289,  296,  311. 
Jeremias,  Alfred,  20. 
Jerome,  245. 
Jerusalem,  24,   26,   282,   284,  296 

seq.,  299  seq. 
Jesus,  192,  232,  249  seq.,  252,  314 

seq. 
Job,   107  seq.,   114  seq.,   126,   160, 

223,  232  seq.,  303  seq.,  365,  367. 


John  the  Baptist,  250. 
Johns,  C.  H.  W.,  20,  260,  271. 
Jonah,  284. 
Josephus,  248. 
Joshua,  283. 
Jubilees,  book  of,  245. 
Judgment,  245  seq.,  252. 
Jupiter,  143,  264. 

Kadesh,  27,  180. 

Kemosh    (Moabitish    deity),    34, 

176,  178. 
Khasisatra  =  Atrakhasis,  39,  327. 
Khumbaba  (mythical  ruler),  323. 
Ki  (Earth),  70  seq.,  74. 
kikkishu  (reed-hut),  339. 
King,  Henry  C,  194. 
King,  L.  W.,  12,  17,  68,  86,  89, 

93- 

Kingdom,  opposition  to,  310  seq. 

Kings,  Books  of,  281. 

Kings,  deification  of,  151,  201,  218. 

Kingu  (leader  of  Tiamat's  army), 

76  seq.,  ill. 
Ki-shar  (deity),  69,  71. 
Ki-shar-gal  (deity),  70  seq: 
Knowledge  of  good  and  evil,  55. 
Knudtzon,  J.  A.,  353. 
Kohler,  Joseph,  260. 
Kronos,  70,  75,  347. 
Kugler,  F.  X.,  324. 

Laban,  280. 

Labour,  167  seq. 

lag  beomer  (thirty-third  day  in  the 
counting  of  the  "Omer"  period 
of  seven  weeks),  163. 

Lakhamu  (consort  of  Lakhmu), 
69,  71. 

Lakhmu  (deity),  69,  71,  74. 

Lamentation  hymns,  122  seq. 

Languages  of  mankind,  56. 

Larak  (city),  96. 

Law,  ethical  spirit  in,  42  seq.,  229; 
study  of,  300;  theory  underly- 
ing, 274  seq.;  yoke  of,  191  seq. 

Laws  of  Hammurapi,  see  Code. 

Legalism,  191  seq.,  303  seq. 

Leviathan  (primeval  monster), 
107,  ill  seq.,  121. 

lex  talionis,  275. 

Life  after  death,  2,  8,  46,  196  seq. 

Life,  blood  as  source  of,  129. 

Light,  creation  of,  117. 


372 


INDEX 


Liver,    136    seq.,    139    seq.,    149. 

(See  also  Hepatoscopy.) 
Loans,  see  Commerce. 
Logos,  126  seq. 
Lord's  Day,  193. 
Lotz,  Wilhelm,  136. 
Lower  world,    197  seq.,   221   seq., 

245;  Pantheon  of,  202  seq.,  262. 

(See  also  Aralu;  Hell;  Sheol.) 
Lucian,  362. 
Lucky  days,  see  Days. 
Lugal  (deity),  330. 
Luke,  315. 

mabbul  (flood),  356. 
Maccabees,  242  seq.,  247,  295. 
Maccabees,  Books  of,  246. 
Magic,  sympathetic,  183. 
Ma-Gur-Gur  (huge  boat),  339,  342. 

(See  also  Ship;  Ark.) 
makom  (holy  spot),  26. 
Malachi,  247. 
Malik  (Canaanitish  deity),  2g  seq., 

183. 
Mamre  (place-name),  27. 
Man,  creation  of,  83  seq.,  97,  101, 

128  seq. 
Man  of  God  =  diviner,  154,  185. 
Manasseh,  32. 
Marduk,  67  seq.,  77  seq.,  117,  220, 

263  seq.;  identified  with  Jupiter, 

143,  264;  names  and  attributes 

of,  86  seq.;  =  Mordecai,  161. 
Marriage,  102,  146,  162  seq.,  273. 
Mars,  144. 
massah     (festival     of     unleavened 

bread),  157. 
masseba,  stone  pillar,  26. 
Material   blessings,   265   seq.,   278 

seq. 
Matthew,  315  seq. 
Meat-eating,  361. 
Medicine,  early,  199. 
Mediterranean,  17. 
Meek,  see  Poor  and  (ani. 
Mercury,  144. 
Messiah   and  Messianic  kingdom, 

231,    237,    241,    244,    246   seq., 

249,  251,  303. 
Meyer,  Eduard,  8,  179,  299. 
Micah,  291. 
Midianites,  179  seq. 
Milkom  (Ammonitish  deity),  34, 

176,  178. 


Moab,  34. 
Moabite  stone,  178. 
Moabites,  176,  178,  227. 
Mohammed,  193. 
Mohammedan  formula,  43. 
Mohammedan  Sabbath,  192  seq. 
Molech  (distorted  form  for  Malik), 

29. 
Monotheism,  18,  45,  178,  182,  187, 

263  seq.;  ethical,  45  seq.,  130  seq., 

178  seq. 
Montefiore,  C.  G.,  192. 
Montgomery,  James  A.,  299. 
Moon,  in  astrology,  82,   119,   142 

seq.,  145  seq.,  154;  phases  of,  150 

seq.,  159,  171,  173  seq.,  184,  194; 

salutation    of,    160.     (See    also 

Full-moon;  New-moon.) 
Moore,  G.  F.,  29. 
Mordecai  =  Marduk,  161. 
Morgan,  J.  Pierpont,  342. 
Moriah,  26. 
Moses,  34  seq.,  174  seq.,  184,  225 

seq.,  252,  282  seq.,  286,  312,  316, 

363. 
Mosque  of  Omar  (in  Jerusalem), 

26. 
Mother-goddess,  206,  337. 
Mountains,  sacred,  26  seq.,  170. 
Mailer,  D.  H.,  364. 
Miiller,  Max,  264. 
Mummu  (personification  of  watery 

element),  69,  72,  73,  in. 
Mythical    element    in    traditions, 

18,  108,  112  seq.,  121. 
Myths,    of    nature,    see    Nature- 
myths;  astral,  324;  spiritualised, 

38  seq.,  59  seq.,  122  seq. 

Nabal,  162. 

Name  as  essence,  101. 

Namtar,  god  of  pestilence,  204  seq. 

Nana,  goddess  of  vegetation,  143. 

napishtu  (Zi),  (life),  338. 

Naram-Sin,  early  Babylonian  ruler, 

270. 
Nationalism,    176    seq.,    247,    282 

seq.,  301  seq. 
Nature-myths,  37  seq.,  50  seq.,  66, 

74,  80,  94  seq.,  97,  107  seq.,  122, 

207,    210,    322    seq.,    349,    364 

seq. 
Nebo,   god  of  wisdom,   264,   330; 

identified  with  Mercury,  143. 


INDEX 


373 


Nehemiah,  189. 

Nergal,    god    of    pestilence    and 

death,   144,   204  seq.,  212,    261 

seq.,  264. 
Nether  world,  see  Lower  World. 
New-moon,    138,    154    seq.,    160, 

173,   185  seq.,  227,  289;  prayer 

to,  160. 
New  Testament,  246,  248,  314  seq. 
New  Year,  159. 
Nicholas  of  Damascus,  85. 
Nin  (female  divinity),  71. 
Nineveh,  136,  139,  284. 
Ninib  =  Enmasht  (deity),   10,   70, 

264,   326,   330;   associated  with 

Saturn,  143. 
Ninkharsag  (goddess),  95  seq.,  337. 
Nintu  (goddess),  336. 
Nin-ur-ul-la  (deity),  71. 
Nippur,  10,  67,  143. 
Nizir,  Mount,  332. 
Noah,  234,  348,  351  seq.;  etymol- 
ogy, 365- 
Nob,  24. 

Nomads  in  Babylonia,  15. 
nubattu  (day  of  distress),  135. 
Nudimmud    (deity),    69,   74  seq., 

81,  96. 

Obedience  and  disobedience,  40 
seq.,  60  seq.,  176  seq.,  283. 

Offering,  see  Sacrifice. 

Olympus,  Mount,  203. 

Omens,  119,  148,  266.  (See  also 
Days,  lucky  and  unlucky.) 

Omer,  see  Lag  beotner. 

Oracle,    155,    185,    274   seq.,    334, 

339,  343- 
Origins,  65. 
Otiartes  =  Ubara-Tutu,  346. 

Pabil-kharsag  (deity),  96. 
Pacification,  day  of,  149  seq.,  170 

seq. 
Palestine,  settlements  in,  15,  281; 

contact  with  Babylonia,  19. 
Pantheon,  200,  202  seq.,  262  seq., 

341  seq. 
Paradise,  218  seq.,  252. 
Passover,  33,  155,  157  seq.,  163. 
Paterson,  Archibald,  270. 
Paton,  L.  B.,  281. 
Patriarchs,  309. 
Paul,  249  seq. 


Pentateuchal  Codes,  173,  176,  189, 

295  seq.,  309  seq. 
Persian  Gulf,  218,  321. 
Pesach,    157.     (See  also  Massah.) 
Pessimism,  41,  56  seq.,  60  seq.,  IOI 

seq.,  245,  305,  365  seq. 
Pharisaism,  300  seq. 
Pharisees,  192,  301. 
Philistines,  181. 
Philo  of  Alexandria,  245,  248. 
Philosophy,  Greek,  236,  304. 
Phoenicians,  227. 
Pilgrimage,  299. 
Pinches,  T.  G.,  138,  263. 
pirishti  Hani  (oracle  of  the  gods), 

342. 
Plato,  140. 
Poebel,  Arno,    95    seq.,    336    seq., 

340,  343- 
Polygamy,  273  seq. 
Poor,  241,  315,  366. 
Prayer,  202,  276,  290  seq. 
Priestly  Code,  104  seq.,  108,  164, 

299  seq.,  350  seq. 
Primitive  man,  101  seq. 
Prometheus,  362. 
Prophets,  223  seq.,  281  seq.,  296, 

308  seq.,  315  seq. 
Proverbs,  124. 
Psalms,    no  seq.,    123,    224,    237, 

239  seq.,  247,  281  seq.,  286,  293 

seq.,  305  seq.,  315;  of  Solomon, 

247. 
Pseudepigraphy,  287  seq. 
Puberty,  146. 
Purim,  147,  161. 
Puritanism,  191. 
Puzur-Kurgal    (boatman    of    the 

'Deluge'  ship),  330. 
Pyrrha,  362. 

Rabbinical  Judaism,  189,  248,  302 

seq.,  307,  312  seq. 
Rabbis  and  the  Sabbath,  189  seq. 
Rachel,  280. 
Rahab     (primeval    monster),    107 

seq.,  121.     • 
Rainbow,  361,  365  seq. 
Ramah  (place-name),  24. 
Raven,  332,  360,  363  seq. 
Rawlinson,  Sir  Henry  C,  134,  135, 

150,  325,  326. 
Raziel  (angel),  348. 
Rebecca,  280. 


374 


INDEX 


Rechabites,  311. 

Redeemer,  see  Messiah. 

Resurrection,  246  seq.,  249,  252. 

Retribution,  229  seq.,  232  seq. 

Rhea,  70. 

Righteous,  231  seq.,  239  seq.,  365 
seq.  (See  also  under  Prophets, 
Psalms,  and  Ethical.) 

rimku  (purification),  138. 

Rogers,  R.  W.,  336,  344,  346. 

Romans,  divination,  140;  favour- 
able and  unfavourable  days,  150. 

Sabbath,  105,  135,  227;  as  austere 
day,  164,  168  seq.;  as  day  of  rest, 
164  seq.,  188;  associated  with 
new-moon,  154  seq.,  289;  his- 
tory of,  164  seq.;  morrow  after 
the,  156;  restrictive  element, 
153,  189  seq. 

Sabitu  (maiden  of  the  sea),  211, 

324- 
Sacrifice,  155,  186,  202,  227,  290, 

295  seq.,  332,  339  seq.,  347,  360, 

362,  366;  of  children,  182. 
Saint  John,  festival,  30. 
Salvation,  251,  366. 
Samaria,  24,  300. 
Samaritans,  299  seq. 
Samuel,  283,  310. 
Sargon  I,  early  Babylonian  ruler, 

7,  12  seq.,  17,  269. 
Sargon  II,  King  of  Assyria,  269, 

271. 
Saturn,  143. 
Saturnalia,  146. 
Sayce,  A.  H.,  52. 
Scepticism,  197,  233  seq.,  303  seq. 
Scheil,  Vincent,  340. 
Schiaparelli,  G.,  124. 
Schmidt,  Nathaniel,  246. 
Schoene,  Alfred,  346. 
Schiirer,  Emil,  300. 
Seir,  Mount,  180. 
Semites    in    Babylonia,    origin,    8 

seq.,  15  seq. 
Serpent,  40,  54  seq.,  60,  108  seq., 

203,  334;  brazen,  183. 
Seven,  27,  48,  132,   170  seq.,  355, 

362. 
shabattum,  134  seq.,  149  seq.,  152 

seq.,  155,  158,  170,  184. 
shabatu  =  gamaru,  139. 
Shabbath  =  Sabbath,  137. 


shabbathon  (sabbatical),  137,  172 
seq. 

Shamash  (solar  deity),  67,96,  143, 
145,  177,  208,  257  seq.,  263  seq., 
276  seq.,  330,  340.  (See  Sun-god.) 

shebiioth,  feast  of  weeks,  155. 

Shem,  354,  357. 

Sheol,  197,  221  seq.,  235,  237,  244 
seq.  (See  also  Aralu;  Hell; 
Lower  World.) 

Shiloh,  24. 

Shinar=  Euphrates  Valley,  6,  8, 
13;  "Cloak  of  Shinar,"  7. 

Ship,  of  Atrakhasis,  342,  345  seq.; 
of  Utnapishtim,  215,  217,  325, 
328  seq.,  334;  of  Utnapishtim, 
called  "palace,"  330,  363;  of 
Ziugiddu,  39,  339  seq.  (See 
also  Ark.) 

shu'alu=  Sheol,  222. 

Shulum  (demon),  138. 

Shunammite  woman,  154. 

Shuruppak  (Shurippak),  96,  214, 
326,338,341,364. 

Sin,  291  seq. 

Sin,  the  moon-god,  20,  145,  206, 
208,  264. 

Sinai,  Mount,  169,  179  seq.,  282. 

Sippar  (city),  67,  96,  257,  338,  347 
seq.,  364. 

Sisithros  =  Xisuthros,  345. 

Sisouthros  =  Xisuthros,  346. 

Siugidda  =  Ziugiddu. 

Skinner,  John,  13,  37,  98,  106. 

Slavery,  274. 

Sodom,  366. 

sohar  (deck),  351. 

Solomon,  281,  286,  310  seq. 

Soul,  245,  252. 

Spirits,  disembodied,  199,  202,  223; 
malevolent,  198  seq.;  of  vegeta- 
tion, 163. 

Stage  towers,  6. 

Stones,  sacred,  26,  180. 

Storm-god,  175,  178,  216,  282,  322, 

e  333,  342. 

Suess,  Eduard,  365. 

suhru  or  zuhru  (bock),  351. 

sukkoth,  festival  of  Booths,  158. 

Sumer,  20. 

Sumerians,  8  seq.;  cremation 
among,  198. 

Sun,  in  astrology,  82,  119,  142  seq., 
145  seq. 


INDEX 


375 


Sunday,  see  Lord's  Day. 
Sun-god,  30,  67,  143,  145,  177  seq., 

205,    210,    257    seq.,    261,    325. 

(See  Shamash.) 
Suti  (nomadic  groups),  16. 
Swallow,  332. 
Synagogue,  300,  302. 

Tabernacle,  310. 
Taboo,  44,  151,  363. 
takiltu  (purification),  138. 
Talmudical    Judaism,     see    Rab- 
binical Judaism. 
Tammuz  (god  of  vegetation),  49, 

5*- 

tanin  (dragon),  121. 

Tartaros  (depth),  72. 

tebah  (ark),  363. 

Tehom,  personification  of  the 
deep,  106  seq.,  124. 

Tell  el-Amarna  Letters,  see 
Amarna. 

Temple  in  Jerusalem,  31. 

Terah,  14. 

Terahites,  7,  13  seq.,  19,  21,  24. 

tertu  (omen,  oracle,)  275. 

Theogony  of  Hesiod,  70  seq. 

Tiamat,  primeval  monster,  69, 
73  seq.,  106,  109  seq.,  121. 

Tiglath-Pileser  I  (King  of  As- 
syria), 269. 

Tigris,  5,  218,  322. 

tilti  (ninth  day  of  month),  138. 

Titans,  70,  73. 

Tohu  and  Bohu  (primeval  chaos), 
106. 

Tora,  275. 

Tower  of  Babel,  6. 

Toy,  C.  H.,  137. 

Transformation  of  primitive  tales 
and  rites,  41,  60  seq.,  105  seq., 
194  seq.     (See  also  Evolution.) 

Transition  periods,  146  seq.,  152 
seQ->  l57,  162,  172  seq.,  188. 

Tree,  of  knowledge,  52  seq.;  of 
life,  52  seq. 

Trees,  sacred,  26  seq. 

Triad,  Apsu,  Mummu,  Tiamat,  72; 
Anu,  Enlil,  Ea,  81;  Gaia,  Tar- 
taros, Eros,  72. 

Tutu,  as  title  of  Marduk,  87. 

Ubara-Tutu  (father  of  hero  of  the 
Deluge),  324,  326,  346. 


urn  arkhi  (day  of  the  new-moon), 

urn  bubbuli  (end  of  month),  135, 

.  x38- 

urn    nubattim    (day   of   distress), 

-  J35: 

um-mi-ni=um-ma-a-ni    (work- 

^  men),  344. 

um  nukh  libbi  (day  of  pacification), 

134  seq.,  171,  173. 
Ummu-khubur,  primeval  monster, 
„  74,  in- 
umu   limnu   (unlucky    day),   136, 

ISI,  175- 
U-Gid  (element  in  name  of  Zi-u- 

gid-du),  337. 
Unclean,  see  Clean;  Taboo. 
Ungnad,  Arthur,  47,  101,  204,  206, 

209,  260,  323,  327,  341,  344. 
Unleavened     bread,     festival     of, 

157. 

Unlucky  days,  see  Days. 

Upshukkinaku  (chamber  of  fates), 
77,  86. 

Ur  (ancient  city),  7,  13  seq.,  19 
seq. 

Uranos  (Heaven),  70,  73. 

Uruk  (ancient  city),  67,  209,  323, 

_   334- 

Usener,  Hermann  Karl,  323,  362. 

Usury,  167. 

Utnapishtim,  hero  of  Babylonian 
Deluge,  39,  214  seq.,  324  seq., 
338  seq.,  342  seq.,  345  seq.,  358, 
365.     (See  also  Ship;  Ziugiddu.) 

Van  Gennep,  Arnold,  146. 
Vegetation,  goddess  of,  143,  203, 

206,  337;  god  of,  257.    (See  Ish- 

tar  and  Nana.) 
Venus,  143. 

War,  ethics  of,  270. 

Ward,  W.  H.,  61. 

Water    as    primeval    element,    66 

seq.,  80,  118. 
Wells,  sacred,  26  seq. 
Westermarck,  Edward  A.,  208. 
Wicked,  punishment  of,  224  seq.t 

293  seq. 
Wiedemann,  Alfred,  150. 
Winckler,  Hugo,  20. 
Wisdom,  107,  124  seq.,  130. 
Wisdom,  book  of,  245. 


376 


INDEX 


Wissowa,  Georg,  150. 

Woman,     as     tempter,     58    seq.; 

position  of,  101  seq. 
Word  of  God,  60,   116,   122  seq., 

130  seq. 
Work  as  a  curse,  57,  102. 

Xisuthros,  hero  of  Babylonian 
Deluge,  327,  346. 

Yahweh,  as  Baal,  28  seq.,  178  seq., 
181;  as  "holy"  god,  175  seq.; 
as  national  deity,  36,  175,  181, 
265,  282,  302;  as  sole  deity,  178 
seq.,  282;  as  storm-god,  175  seq., 
178,  282;  as  tribal  deity,  33; 


imageless  worship  of,  182;  anger, 
175  seq.',  ethical  traits,  226  seq., 
282. 

Yahwist,  349  seq. 

yom  nor  a  (day  of  terror),  172. 

yom  tob  (auspicious  day),  162. 

Yule-tide,  146. 

Zamama  (deity),  264. 

Zeus,  70,  75. 

Z\  —  napishtu  (life),  338. 

Zimmern,    Heinrich,    51,    73,    85, 

259,  276,  336. 
Zion,  Mount,  26,  180. 
Ziugiddu,  hero  of  the  Babylonian 

Deluge,  96,  337  seq.,  347,  366. 


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